


to continue being

by censored



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Detroit: Become Human Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crime Scenes, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Snow, but with minor changes, literally dbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 112,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/censored/pseuds/censored
Summary: An advanced prototype created to assist law enforcement in investigations. A domestic housework android purchased to care for a child. A one of a kind domestic android created to care for an elderly artist. All specifically programmed to do one thing: accomplish the task a human has given them.Sometimes, that's not enough.~detroit: become human written out, with marvel characters~
Relationships: Harley Keener & Harry Osborn, Miles Morales & Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. the hostage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RandyQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandyQueen/gifts).



> the dates listed in the game are ridiculous and way too fast paced, so i decided to just,,,, ignore those. now it just says the month, yall can decide how fast this story moves within the month, but it sure as well wasn’t going to be like five days david cage. unlike david cage, im not afraid to make them gay, so there’s that. its super slow burn, like they don’t meet until the end pretty much so this fic isn’t really any of the ships listed lmao, sorry. i didnt realize until i finished writing chs 1-36 and then went: ah, shit. 
> 
> anyway, this is literally a rewrite of the detroit become human game with very few changes. the only original stuff in this is the epilogues (ch 37-40) so uh yeah. theyre androids, thus the odd writing style in the beginning before deviating and stuff. stick it out, i swear it gets better.  
> and thus the journey begins (this fic is pretty much completed at the time im posting the first chapter, so i’ll be posting regularly until its done) its a long one folks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor edits: 08/19/20
> 
> tw: hostage situation, mentions of blood

AUG 15TH, 2038

PM 08:29

Peter fiddled idly with a coin, a 1994 US currency quarter, flicking it back and forth between his hands as the elevator rose in numbers. His LED, a small circular light on his temple, a solid blue as the coin rolled over his knuckles.

68

69

70

He tucked the coin into his pocket.

The doors opened with a subtle ding.

A member of SWAT glanced at him and immediately spoke into his radio, “Negotiator on site. Repeat, negotiator on site.”

Suddenly, a hysterical woman flanked by SWAT appeared from around the corner, sobbing out pleas to not leave ‘her.’

Most likely the mother of the hostage.

She stumbled up to him, grasping his suit with shaking hands. “Oh, please, you’ve gotta save my little girl,” she gasped out, her eyes wide and desperate. Her eyes widened further, shifting from desperation to shock. “Wait, you’re sending an android?” 

Peter looked down at her impassively as she pulled away from him in disgust, moving his eyes to evaluate the rest of the room. His LED a solid blue. 

“Alright, ma’am. Time to go.”

“You can't, you can’t do that! Why aren’t you sending a real person?” She began to yell as she was dragged away. “Don’t let that thing near my daughter! Keep that thing away from her! Keep it away!”

The hallway seemed deathly quiet without her sobs echoing around him. 

There was shattered glass on the floor from the aquarium. It wasn’t completely destroyed, just the top half, with fish continuing to swim in the remaining water.

Movement. Peter glanced to see a colorful fish flopping desperately among the glass shards.

He knelt down, tilting his head slightly as he analyzed it.

**DWARF GOURAMI**

**Trichogaster Lalius**

**Origin: Ganges Delta, India**

He would surely be scolded for wasting time. He shouldn't. 

It looked so helpless. It wouldn’t survive much longer if it wasn’t returned to the water. There was no reason to do this. He was wasting time. 

He saved the fish.

Once he had gently set it in the water, the Dwarf Gourami swam deeper into the tank.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

He moved on.

His objective was to locate Captain Allen.

Finding Captain Allen among the mess of SWAT and Detroit PD was moderately annoying, but he made it there soon enough. The captain was a loud man, complaining that Peter was being sent to do a human’s job. A typical response to seeing or working with an android.

Captain Allen was leaning over a SWAT member, attempting to see the screen when Peter finally approached.

“Captain Allen? My name is Peter. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

He was distracted, not even glancing at Peter. “It’s firing at everything that moves; it already shot down two of my men. We could easily get it, but they're on the edge of the balcony. If it falls, she falls.”

Peter needed information. That was the only way he was going to save the hostage from this deviant. Surely, Captain Allen knew something.

“Do you know its name?” Peter tried, staring expectantly at the man.

Captain Allen gave him a skeptical look. Did this man not know that the best way to get through to a deviant was to use its given name, rather than its serial code, in order to make it believe that you understand its place? 

In reality, it was used to give them a false sense of trust. It was the easiest way to take them down. 

“I haven’t got a clue. Does it matter?”

Apparently, he didn’t know. This was why CyberLife sent Peter to negotiate. 

“I need information to determine the best approach,” Peter dutifully replied, hypothesizing the best question to ask next.

It was unlikely the captain did any investigation. He probably only attempted the deactivation code. Deviants often began to behave differently before acting out, and many deviate around a period of emotional shock. Why had this deviant taken a young girl hostage?

“Has it experienced an emotional shock recently?”

Captain Allen replied with the same dismissive remark as the previous question. Peter parroted his last response as well, beginning to develop objectives for his investigation.

“Listen,” Captain Allen continued. “Saving that kid is all that matters. So either you deal with this fucking android now, or I’ll take care of it.”

Message received.

With that, Captain Allen turned back to the screen.

There had to be a reason the deviant chose the girl as a hostage, Peter concluded, making his way to the first bedroom. It was the little girl’s. A tablet rested on her desk, while a pair of headphones were left on the floor. Peter clicked the tablet on, a video of the deviant and the young girl appearing. The girl was grinning widely at the camera, holding the deviant close to her. Emma Phillips.

“This is Daniel, the coolest android in the world! Say hi, Daniel!”

“Hello,” the android said to the camera, a smile on its face.

“You’re my bestie! We’ll always be together!”

The video ended as Peter was setting the tablet back down. So, the deviant’s name was Daniel. Emma and the deviant were close, it seemed, or at least, Emma was fond of it. 

Peter picked up the headphones, noting the music loudly playing from them. The child didn’t hear the gunshots. She didn’t know the violence occurring outside her door, blindly trusting the deviant when it came to grab her.

A quick glance around the room revealed no more evidence. Peter didn’t have much time.

His LED spun blue.

The parent’s bedroom didn’t have much clutter, with the exception of an empty gun case that had been left open on the floor. 

**MS853 Black Hawk**

**Capacity: 17 rounds (.355)**

**Overall: 8.5in / Barrel: 5in**

The deviant was armed. One wrong move, and it would shoot the hostage or itself. How many bullets had the deviant fired already?

Peter moved on.

The location of confrontation would have the most amount of evidence. The father’s body was in the living room.

“All units hold positions. The negotiator’s going in.”

“In position. Ready to assault.”

Peter gave them a curious once over, evaluating their positions in the living room and connected kitchen. He couldn’t confront the deviant yet. They would have to wait.

There was an overflowing boiling pot on the stove. Dinner preparation brutally interrupted.

A deceased cop was next to the dining table. First responder. Gunshot wound to the abdomen.

**P.O DECKART, ANTONY**

**Height: 5’8” - Weight: 170.5 Ibs**

**Estimated time of death: 8:03 PM**

Only one wound. A single, lethal shot directly to the heart. Perforated the right ventricle. Massive internal bleeding.

This officer would have been armed, so where was the weapon?

Peter reconstructed the scene. 

The officer entered the room, gun raised to shoot, and encountered the deviant attempting to go outside onto the terrace with Emma. Deckart fired off one shot, wounding the deviant’s arm, spattering Thirium onto the inner glass of the door. The deviant shot Deckart within the same moment, causing his body to fall back, releasing the gun. Peter glanced under the dining table. Bingo.

Peter reached for the firearm. He hesitated half a second. 

**P.L. 544-7 AMERICAN ANDROIDS ACT- 2029**

**Androids are strictly forbidden to carry or use any type of weapon.**

He grabbed the gun.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

His LED spun blue.

Another body was by the soda, a middle-aged male holding a tablet. Gunshot wounds to the abdomen. The father.

**PHILLIPS, JOHN**

**Born: 10/11/1999**

**Lives: 1554 Park Av. Detroit**

Peter analyzed the bullet wounds.

Three.

Left kidney. Fatal abdominal trauma.

Lung. Internal bleeding. Collapsed.

Lung. Internal bleeding.

Estimated time of death: 7:29 PM.

Peter reconstructed the scene. The man had been sitting on the couch, looking at something on his tablet. When the deviant appeared behind him, holding the gun it had gotten from the parent’s bedroom, he had stood up. The deviant had shot him three times. Overkill. A sign of this being a kill of passion. There was more emotion attached to John Phillips’ murder than Deckart’s.

Now, what was on that tablet?

Peter retrieved it from the dead man’s grasp, powering it on. 

“Your order for an AP700 android has been registered. CyberLife thanks you for your purchase.”

The deviant was being replaced. That was a strong enough emotional stressor.

Peter needed to go outside.

SWAT repositioned themselves as he moved towards the door.

Peter stepped out the door, immediately getting grazed by a bullet across his arm as Daniel reacted to his presence. Thirium spattered onto the window, blazer tearing as the bullet purposefully grazed him.

No damage to any vital components. His LED spun blue. Peter continued forward.

“Stay back!” Daniel yelled, gesturing with the gun. Its LED was a violent red. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll jump!”

“No!” Emma sobbed, kicking her legs. “No, please! I’m begging you!”

“Hi, Daniel!” Peter called out over the wind, beginning to approach slowly. 

The deviant appeared confused, momentarily looking as though it would drop Emma, muttering out a “how” that barely reached Peter’s ears.

“My name is Peter.”

Build trust. That was the only way this deviant was going to not kill the hostage.

“How do you know my name?” Daniel recovered from the shock, tightening its grip on the hostage. 

Peter had to keep his composure, not that it would be difficult. This was what he was made to do. But, Daniel was unstable and a wildcard.

“I know a lot of things about you,” Peter admitted. “I’ve come to get you out of this.”

That was a lie, but Daniel didn’t know that.

Understanding. Empathetic. Daniel was experiencing errors in its software that would result in feeling human emotions. 

“I know you’re angry, Daniel,” Peter continued to move slowly forward, noting a wounded cop lying next to the pool. “But you need to trust me and let me help you.”

Build trust. Be understanding.

“I don’t want your help!” Daniel yelled, the gun shaking in its grip.

The little composure the deviant had was quickly disappearing.

“Nobody can help me! All I want is for all this to stop,” Daniel cried out.

Peter was parallel with the wounded cop. The man had a bullet wound in his arm, clutching it desperately and looking to Peter with despair. Pleading. Desperate enough to look at an android to save his life.

“He’s losing blood,” Peter announced to Daniel. “If we don’t get him to a hospital, he’s going to die.”

Surely, Daniel would empathize with this human.

“All humans die eventually. What does it matter if this one dies now?”

Or not. 

Peter, despite the dangerous position this put him in, knelt beside the cop. “I’m going to apply a tourniquet.”

Daniel, with the attention off its actions, did not like losing control of the situation. A bullet hit the ground a foot away from Peter. “Don’t touch him! Touch him, and I kill you!”

Peter stared at the deviant. Stared at the gun aimed directly at his head. 

“You can’t kill me. I’m not alive.”

He turned away from Daniel.

The deviant had a clear shot to deactivate him—a perfect shot to the head. 

But, as Peter loosened his tie to use as a tourniquet for the cop, Daniel didn’t.

The cop groaned from the pressure, but Peter didn’t relent. If this tourniquet wasn’t tight enough, this cop was going to die from blood loss.

With a final tug, Peter stood up and faced Daniel.

**PUBLIC OPINION ^**

Daniel stared back.

“Are you armed?”

“No,” Peter lied, beginning to walk slowly towards Daniel again. “I don’t have a gun.”

Daniel couldn’t possibly know of the firearm tucked into the back of Peter’s trousers. 

“You’re lying!” the deviant bluffed, its stress levels increasing. “I know you have a gun!”

Daniel needed to believe him. Believe that Peter hadn’t broken the law and armed himself as a precaution to accomplish this mission.

Build trust.

“I’m telling you the truth, Daniel. I came here unarmed.”

Use the deviant’s name. Remind it of its owners—the bond developed with Emma.

“They were going to replace you, and you became upset,” Peter told him, arms raised to show submission. Let Daniel believe it was in charge of the situation. “That’s what happened, right?”

“I thought I was part of the family. I thought I mattered.” Daniel briefly lowered the gun from Emma’s head before snapping it back up in anger. “But I was just their toy, something to throw away when you’re done with it.”

Daniel was still upset with the father, it seemed. Steer the conversation away from the family as a whole. Focus on the bond it has with Emma.

“I know you and Emma were very close,” Peter nodded to the young girl trembling in Daniel’s grasp, “You think she betrayed youーbut she’s done nothing wrong.”

Emma had nothing to do with the family’s decision to replace an outdated android. She was a child. 

“She lied to me. I thought she loved me, but I was wrong. She’s just like all the other humans.”

“Daniel, no,” Emma gasped, tears streaming down her face.

Daniel’s hatred for the father had evolved into a hatred for all humans; even innocent ones, Peter concluded. He would have to redevelop his approach to gaining Daniel’s trust. However, Daniel’s response to Emma’s plea revealed that the deviant did still care for the girl.

Focus on the hostage.

“Are you okay, Emma?” Peter asked her, ignoring Daniel’s glare.

The girl struggled briefly in the android’s grip. “Please help me. I don’t wanna die!”

Reassure the hostage. A panicked hostage was not ideal for this situation.

“Nobody’s going to die. Stay calm. Everything’s going to be fine.” He assured her. 

Partial lie. Daniel was not making it out of this.

Peter was made to do this. This hostage situation was going to end the way he wanted it to. 

His LED spun blue.

The helicopter hovered closer. It had a SWAT team, multiple guns trained on Daniel, but unable to take a shot until Emma was out of its arms. Unable to risk the death of a child.

Daniel groaned, shaking its head. “I can’t stand that noise anymore! Tell that helicopter to get out here!”

If Daniel was distracted, Peter didn’t have control of the situation. 

He waved the helicopter away. 

“There, I did what you wanted,” Peter assured Daniel. He had covered half the terrace at this point but continued his slow-going trek forward. He needed to be close enough to grab Emma if Daniel decided to fall backward.

Keep Daniel focused on him. Build trust. Use its name.

“You have to trust me, Daniel. Let the hostage go, and I promise you everything will be fine.”

Daniel’s stress-levels were lowering.

“I want everyone to leave,” the deviant started hesitantly, “And I wanna car! When I'm outside the city, I'll let her go!”

Impossible. Daniel wasn’t leaving this terrace.

“That’s impossible, Daniel. Let the girl go, and I promise you won’t be hurt.”

Truth, mixed with a lie. 

Build trust. Empathize.

“I don’t want to die,” Daniel cried, looking at Peter with desperation.

“You’re not going to die,” Peter lied. “We’re just going to talk. Nothing will happen to you. You have my word.”

Lie. Lie. Lie.

Build trust. 

“Okay,” the deviant relented, setting Emma down. “I trust you.”

A terrible decision for Daniel. A perfect one for Peter.

Emma stumbled out of its grasp. One of her shoes was missing. She made it three steps away before collapsing in a sob.

Hostage safe.

Gunshot.

The snipers on the building across finally had a clear shot.

Gunshot.

Gunshot.

Gunshot.

White plastic revealed itself as Daniel’s sides were damaged, Thirium spraying from the vital biocomponents being ruptured.

“You lied to me, Peter,” Daniel gasped out, as the deviant’s body powered down. “You lied to me.”

Peter turned from the deviant, from the sobbing girl, as SWAT stormed onto the terrace.

Peter felt something, hearing Daniel’s voice echoing in his head.  _ ‘You lied to me.’ _

Guilt.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

They still had their guns trained on the deviant, but two split off to assist the wounded cop, and three ran to Emma. Captain Allen went straight for Daniel, giving Peter a brief glance.

Peter walked away. 

His LED spun blue.

**MISSION COMPLETED**


	2. the opening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to ch 2! this is the opening scene for the game and thus, the shortest chapter of all
> 
> nonetheless, i hope you enjoy
> 
> tw: none to my knowledge, let me know if i need to add one. 
> 
> minor edits: 08/19/20

NOV 2038

PM 03:24

**MODEL AX400**

**SERIAL#: 579 102 694**

**BIOS 7.4 REVISION 0483**

**REBOOT...**

**MEMORY RESET**

**LOADING OS...**

**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK**

**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK**

**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK**

**MEMORY STATUS...**

**ALL SYSTEMS OK**

**READY**

The AX400 opened its eyes. 

It wasn’t alone. 

Evaluating. It was in a store. 

A young girl was looking at it.

“Come on, Zoe. Let’s go.”

The child wanted a friend.

There were other androids, standing idly on platforms as the AX400 was. Signs above them that proclaimed:  _ SALE! ONLY $7999 _ .

Model numbers bold above their heads. 

Two androids were not on the platforms. They adorned uniforms, leading the humans around to different models. Trying to get a sale. “This is the top of the range household assistant. It cooks 10,000 different dishes, speaks 200 languages, and dialects and handles the kids' homework from elementary school up to university level.”

“How much did you say it costs?”

Couples gleefully held hands, browsing for the best android for their needs. Parents dragged children behind them, for they had been staring too long at a particular model.

The AX400 looked up. Bright lights. White walls. Colorful signs. Used to draw humans into the store to purchase an android. 

“Good afternoon! Can I help you?”

No one had approached the AX400, located in the center of the back of the store. 

Perhaps the model wasn’t attractive enough, the female appearance unappealing. Humans wouldn’t have an unaesthetic android roaming around their home doing chores, tutoring their child, or cooking meals. Perhaps the model was too expensive. Unlikely. 

An AX400’s main functions were: domestic worker, house-keeping, caretaker of young children.

Price: $899

It was a model most primarily used for tending to young children. 

A man entered the store. He went to the counter, talking to the only human employee in the store. 

The AX400 looked away, analyzing the other customers.

“Excuse me, how much is that one over there?”

No one had approached the AX400.

“Thank you, and we’re good,” the human employee confirmed.

“Can I go pick it up?” 

“Yeah, right back here,” the human employee led the man towards the AX400. “There it is. It was a bit difficult getting it back in working order. It was really messed up. What did you say happened to it again?”

The man hesitated, looking at the AX400. “A car hit it. Stupid accident.”

He didn’t look convinced. Neither did the employee. 

The AX400 didn’t like this man.

Humming under his breath, the employee said, “Anyway, it’s as good as new. Except, we had to reset it, wipe its memory. Hopefully, that was okay.”

“Yeah,” the man replied, scratching at his face “That’s fine.”

“Did you give it a name?”

“My son did.”

The employee turned to the AX400. “AX400, register your name.”

“Gwen,” the man said.

She turned to look at him. “My name is Gwen.”

  
  


Gwen sat in the passenger seat of Fisk’s truck. Fisk was the man who had repurchased her. After a car accident. The reason why she had no memory.

Fisk’s truck was old and run down. Paint chipped. It didn’t hover across the pavement, as newer cars did. It had rubber wheels that stayed on the ground. 

Fisk ignored her.

She looked outside the window. It was late afternoon. 

The sun was bright on the horizon as they drove down the highway. Past a factory, blowing pollutants up into the atmosphere. Multiple smokestacks among the grey buildings. 

Detroit was an industrial city. 

Her LED spun blue.

Eventually, the landscape shifted into trees. Purposefully placed nature to make the city seem alive.

Gwen couldn’t see the top of the skyscrapers from her position in the truck, but she looked as high as she could. 

She watched the train glide on the rail, above the roads and pedestrians, past the skyscrapers.

The city was coming alive, more and more pedestrians making their way to the streets. Humans were working out with their personal trainer androids. Androids were running errands. Humans were rushing to work. 

They drove past construction. Multiple androids carrying massive steel beams. Holes in the ground. Human supervisors instructing their actions. Parts of the road closed.

Fisk barely looked.

Gwen stared.

She stared at the massive, building-sized advertisement from CyberLife.

_ GET YOURS TODAY! _

_ Designed by CYBERLIFE. Assembled in Detroit.  _

Three models were displayed. The blue triangle was bright on the left side of their chests—model number on the right. None were an AX400. The only model number Gwen could see was an AP700. 

They drove past a church, the sun shining directly above the cross, red stone decorated with intricate white detail. 

Her LED spun blue.

They drove past the Greek District. Dozens of humans and androids making their way to the stores located in the bottom section of the buildings. 

She felt herself starting to get lost in the monotonous traffic. Stop and go. 

Then, it changed. 

Gone was the bright and alive city. 

The sky had darkened, dumping rain over the run-down factories. Those that were left abandoned once production lowered. Over the LED of advertisements. Over the black umbrellas that had opened over human heads. Androids continued to walk, unbothered. Only stopping once they were stationed under “Android Temporary Parking” locations or waiting for buses. 

Her LED spun blue. 

Gwen saw a human sitting against a building. Dirty and worn down, the man had a glass bottle on one side and a sign that said, “I just lost my job because of ANDROIDS!!! Help me” on the other side. 

Her LED faltered, losing its light for a moment before the blue returned in fragments. She implemented the information. The LED switched back to a solid blue.

The city began to sprawl away from dense skyscrapers into open skies and windmills, rain gone. Now, the buildings were burned, dirty, rundown homes. 

The road was narrow and unkept. Few pedestrians on the sidewalks. 

Her LED spun calmly on the side of her head. CyberLife blue. 

Gwen saw a man sitting on the steps leading the porch of his house, watching the cars go by. 

They continued to drive down the neighborhood road.


	3. shades of colour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meeting the final main character! (still a bit empty in these early chapters, but again: it does get better!!)
> 
> tw: discrimination, minor violence

NOV 2038

AM 09:38

Harley walked through Henry Ford Commemorative Park. The trees were bright with yellow and orange leaves, looking as though they were on fire as they hung over the path. His sleeves were rolled up, both of his undershirt and his jacket, the blue triangle a vibrant mark of his status. 

The park was moderately busy for the morning, androids tending to the bushes and piles of leaves while humans strolled or jogged by. 

Autumn was in full force. The humans taking advantage of the nice weather before the cold winter arrived.

A flock of pigeons dispersed as a child ran through them, running towards an AX400. The young girl gave the android a hug, which was returned. Harley briefly watched, before continuing on his way, hearing the AX400 ask the child if she was ready to return home. 

An older man was being helped off a bench by an android. “Here. Let me help you.”

“Oh! Thank you, dear.”

Harley’s eyes were drawn towards the playground, the busiest area of the park, where children were swinging and running about. Their androids dutifully watching them. 

A man and an android ran past him, a water bottle secured in the android’s back pocket. They suddenly stopped in front of Harley, the man leaning over to catch his breath. 

The AC700, a sports partner android, watched him.

“Water,” the man gasped, gesturing for it as he straightened up.

The AC700 retrieved it, handing it to the man, who began to chug. “You have run twelve miles, and are five miles away from your goal.”

The man threw the water bottle at the AC700’s face and began to run again. 

Harley left the park.

Greek District was a shopping area across from the park, a courtyard that led to an enclosed area of stores, still open to the elements. 

There was a steady stream of cars, ranging from taxis to garbage trucks. The light was red, and his interface told him not to cross until the green pedestrian light appeared.

He needed to go to Bellini Paints to pick up order #847.

The light turned green, and Harley crossed. 

Without the tree canopy above him, Harley was left in the bright sun that was reflecting off of the water fixture in the courtyard. He walked past a delivery truck fulfilling an early morning delivery and some street construction before reaching music. 

There was a man in a vest and hat playing guitar, his case left open for any tips he may receive. The sign in the case read “Human Music! $1 to hear music with soul.” 

As he made his way further towards Bellini Paints, the crowd began to thicken with the humans on early morning shopping trips. There were a few androids mixed in that were not accompanying a human. 

A man was giving a sermon, and a couple of people had stopped to listen. Harley briefly debated whether or not to observe, but the man’s words quickly discouraged him. It seemed the sermon was anti-android. 

“God will not let this happen. No, he will not allow his creation to be led astray by theseーthese artificial demons! My brethren, we have to turn our backs on sin! We have to burn the androids! Let us burn them all!”

Bellini Paints was the second store on the left. Across from a store called James & Carter.

Harley went in. The walls were a rainbow gradient of color; the only inhabitant of the store was an android behind the counter.

He approached the counter, putting his palm on the selection pad to verify his order and identification.

“Identification verified. Here’s your order #847.” The android set the order onto the counter. “That’ll be $63.99. Please confirm payment,” he told him. 

Harley looked into his eyes, blinking as the LED on the side of his head spun yellow for a moment, the cashier’s following suit. “Payment confirmed.”

“Transaction complete,” the cashier informed him.

Harley grabbed the package and exited the small store.

A couple was looking at a display of androids, the woman wanting another while the man believes they should think about it. Harley side-steps them, making his way back outside.

His feet were nearly silent on the polished marble, expertly maneuvering through the endless stream of people making their way to the shops. The fastest way to the bus stop was to cut through the courtyard, behind the hot dog vendor. 

Harley strolled past the water feature, through the crowd, to behind the hotdog stand. 

Behind the stand, the shouting was more noticeable. There was a ground of anti-android protestors. Harley had to get back, so he continued to walk past them, ignoring their chants.

“Androids are stealing our jobs! We've got families to feed, and these androids are taking our place! Machines, ladies and gentlemen, are meant to serve us, not to replace us!”

A cheer of agreement.

“35% unemployment, millions out of work, are we going to do something?” the man who seemed to be leading yelled.

A cacophony of affirmation.

“We want jobs, not more androids!” he continued, riling up the crowd even more.

“WE WANT WORK!”

They continued to yell a question-reply chant. 

Harley looked straight ahead and continued to the bus stop. There had been enough androids around, and it was unlikely that they would single him out, Harley believed. 

“Where the fuck you going, tin can?” the guy in charge noticed him and blocked Harley’s path. Harley attempted to step around him, but the man once again blocked his way. By this point, the entire group had turned to sneer at him. “Hey guys, check it out, we got one of those tin cans here.”

The rest of the group circled him, calling out insults and jeers. Harley continued to face forward. His LED spun a calm blue, despite the increasingly violent situation. 

The protest leader shoved him to the ground, the package flying out of his hands. Harley calmly tried to stand back up, but a kick to the stomach sent him back down. His LED spun yellow.

“Look at this little motherfucker. You steal our jobs, but you can't even stand up,” a woman snarled at him, kicking his side again.

He finally stood up, only for the leader to grab the front of his jacket, pulling Harley close to his face, ready to threaten him.

“Alright,” a policeman pushed through the crowd, keeping the group away from Harley. “That’s enough. Leave it alone.”

Harley looked at the policeman for a moment before glancing at the protestors. The policeman was calm if a bit annoyed that he had to come to the aid of an android, but the protestors looked furious.

“Let us teach this bastard a lesson,” the leader said.

“You damage it, I’m gonna have to fine you,” the policeman sighed.

The leader glanced at the cop, releasing Harley with enough force to send him back a step.

“They’re gonna take your job next,” a protestor told the policeman, pointing to the man’s chest. “We’ll see how you like it.”

The policeman looked annoyed now, but he stayed calm.

Harley grabbed the package and stood up fully beside the policeman. 

“Okay. Let’s go, move along,” the policeman dismissed him, and Harley continued his walk to the bus stop, hearing the chants of the protestors start back up behind him.

Blue light from the CyberLife store illuminated the area in front of the bus stop. There was a separate space for humans to wait, so Harley stood on the small blue platform next to the covered bench.

He only had to wait about ten minutes for the next bus to arrive—enough time for his processors to sort through the confrontation with the protestors, analyzing what had occurred. 

The familiar blue triangle of CyberLife rolled in front of Harley, the designated Android Compartment of the bus lining up with where androids were forced to stand. With a smooth glide, the door opened to reveal about seven other androids standing at the back of the bus. Harley stepped up and took his place among the group. With that, the bus pulled off the curb and began its route.

Harley allowed his mind to wander, his blue eyes drifting aimlessly around the bus as he remembered what had occurred in the courtyard. Now, he stood with the other androids, physically separated from the humans on the bus by a hologram that declared the area to be an  _ ANDROID COMPARTMENT _ .

The bus continued through the city. 

Harley’s LED continued to spin yellow.


	4. a new home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of alcohol and drugs, minor violence, mention of firearm, mention of medicine (pills), child abuse 
> 
> as someone who is primarily a fluff writer and rarely, if ever, writes anything angsty, this fic was so hard for me to write. some chapters took me days to complete, their topics too heavy to focus on for too long. oops.

NOV 2038

PM 04:53

Gwen watched the rundown houses pass by slowly, interrupted by one that was partially burned down, the parts left standing charred. Fisk rolled his truck to a stop in front of a white two-story house, with a pale yellow door and a foundation of brick. 

He got out, slamming the door, and walked up to the patio, turning to wait on Gwen to get out and join him. She opened the door and closed it more gently than he had, looking around the neighborhood briefly. The house was on the corner of the street, with a factory in the distance. Across the street, there was a plot of land under construction. An LED sign proudly displaying skyscrapers.

_ REBUILD NORTH CORKTOWN. A BETTER PLACE TO LIVE. _

“You coming?” 

She was taking too long. 

Gwen joined Fisk on the patio. 

He opened the door, walking in and shrugging his jacket off to place on the coat rack. Gwen closed the door behind him.

“You've been gone for two weeks, so the place is a mess,” Fisk started, moving into the living room. “You do the housework, the washing, you cook the meals, and you take care of…” Fisk glanced around, looking for something. “Goddammit! Where the fuck's the brat gone now? MILES! MILES!”

Gwen watched him look.

“Oh, there you are.” 

A child was sitting on the stairs, holding a stuffed spider. 

“That's Miles,” Fisk informed her. “You look after him, homework, bath, all that crap. Got it?”

Gwen looked at the boy, giving him a small smile.

“Yes, Fisk,” Gwen nodded, inputting the information. 

Fisk evaluated her, “Get started down here, and then you do upstairs.”

He walked to the couch. Gwen turned to look at Miles again, but the boy was already running upstairs.

Gwen glanced around. The house was just as rundown inside as it was outside, if not worse. Stained walls, chipped flooring, generally messy. 

She decided to begin the chores given to her, hearing Fisk turn the TV on from the other room. A small dining table in the living room had a couple of dirty plates and a glass, so Gwen grabbed those. As she did, Miles quietly walked down the stairs and went into the living room. 

The kitchen had a stack of dirty dishes, which the few dishes in her hands joined, and a bag of trash to take care of. While she was in there, Fisk picked up a phone call. “Yeah? Maybe. Depends on what you need. Yeah, yeah, I can get that. Yeah, yeah, I'll bring it tomorrow. Yes, same place, you know, you know where. Right.”

Gwen went to put the dishes in the dishwasher, scanning it quickly. 

**DISHWASHER NOT WORKING**

**Missing component #573BV**

**154 sale offers available**

**MISSING COMPONENT #573BV ORDER: ………..PROCESSING**

**COMPONENT #573BV ORDERED**

With that, she placed the dishes into the sink and turned the water on, grabbing a sponge to begin to wash them. She had only cleaned one plate and was working on the second when Gwen felt someone watching her. She slowly turned, seeing Miles watch her for a moment before running back into the living room. 

A small smile on her lips, she turned to continue washing.

“Gwen!”

“Yes, Fisk?”

“Bring me a cold beer!”

“Right away.”

Flicking the tap off, now that the dishes were done, she made her way to the fridge and grabbed the last beer. 

Fisk was lounging on the couch watching a hockey game, so Gwen set the beer on the cluttered coffee table. He immediately reached for it.

There was a robot vacuum in the corner, so she leaned down to activate it, watching as Miles began to play with it.

“Miles! You better stop that right now!”

The boy immediately stopped.

Gwen grabbed the small trash can from the kitchen and collected the trash from the coffee table, kitchen counter, and dining table. She tied the bag shut and snagged the other full bag, taking them out front to place in the garbage can she had seen on the street. 

The weather was nice if not expecting a bit more rain. She watched a bus drive by.

So, there’s a regular bus through this section of town. 

Once the bags were in the can, she went back inside.

She decided to go out to the backyard to make sure there were no additional chores to add to her objectives. A rickety clothing line held some clothes that looked as though they had gone through the last rain, so Gwen grabbed the small basket that was underneath, putting it on her hip and began to unpin the clothing, placing it into the basket as she went. She had almost gotten all the clothing off when she realized that Miles had joined her outside.

He was just stepping off the small deck, toy still in hand, and sat down on a tire to play with the spider.

Gwen made her way over the boy, kneeling in front of him. “You look bored. Would you like to play a game?” she asked him, the boy shyly ducking his head towards his toy.

“You like playing out here?” Gwen tried again with a smile, nodding to the moderate-sized yard. 

Miles got up and went back inside. 

Eventually, the child would warm up to her again.

There were two doors to the backyard, one through the kitchen and one that lead to the laundry room. The laundry room was large, she noted, with plenty of open floor space. Gwen put the clothes in the washer and grabbed the container of soap. 

There was a plastic packet sticking out.

She grabbed it. A small package of red crystals. 

**RED ICE**

**Acetone, Lithium, Thirium**

**Toluene, Hydrochloric acid**

Someone was behind her.

She turned, and Fisk immediately slammed her into the washer, hand against her neck. Her LED flashed to red.

“You shouldn’t mess around with my stuff,” he said, staring into her eyes. “It makes me nervous.”

“I’m sorry, Fisk,” she struggled to say around his hand.

“You stay the fuck outta my business,” he gestured at her with the Red Ice, “unless you wanna piss me off. You wanna piss me off?”

Her LED continued to blink red. “No, Fisk.”

He nodded slightly, slowly removing his hand from her neck and allowing her feet to touch the ground before backing out the room.

As he retreated, her LED switched to yellow. Miles was watching from the doorway. Gwen watched him go back towards the stairs, leaving her alone in the laundry room as her LED slowly moved back to blue.

Once it was blue, she poured the soap into the washer and placed it back on the shelf.

There were some books on the living room floor. She tidied it up, placing them back on the shelf.

Now, she had to report to Fisk that the first floor was completed. “I’ve made a good start down here. I’ll head upstairs.”

“Do what you have to do, but stop bothering me.”

Miles was sitting in the window seat, playing with his spider.

“That’s a pretty toy,” Gwen commented. “What’s its name?”

He didn’t respond.

Gwen went upstairs.

Fisk’s bedroom was at the top of the stairs, so she started with that. Quickly making the bed, she opened the windows to ventilate the room. There were vinyls on the floor. She picked them up and placed them into their storage bin. An electric guitar put back into its stand. 

The bedside table had a bottle of pills. Antidepressants. She placed them in the drawer, noting the handgun that accompanied them. 

The papers on the floor were bills. 

With a bit more tidying, she had completed his room.

The bathroom was next. Fisk shoved her out of his way in the hallway.

Green. That was how she would describe the toilet room. Green. And dirty.

She scrubbed the toilet and moved on to the other room. The bathroom was a larger room, still green. Quickly arranging the bottles that had fallen, she picked up the dirty towels.

A mirror. Gwen stared at herself. 

Brown hair pulled back into a secure low bun on her neck. Blue eyes. Her white tunic, black on top with her name on her left and the CyberLife blue triangle on the right, stood out harshly on the dirty walls behind her. The blue armband rested just below the sleeve on her left arm.

Gwen didn’t know why she had looked at herself in the mirror. 

She continued to tidy up, mopping the floor once everything was picked up.

Miles’ room was the last. His door was closed, and when Gwen opened it, he dashed into a small fort in the corner. “I just want to tidy up your room a little,” Gwen told him. “I only need two minutes. Is that okay, Miles?”

Once he gave her a nod, she moved to look at the book he had been reading off the floor, smiling at him as she did so. 

There were other books, all children’s books and comics, on a shelf that was out of his reach. “Seems you like reading,” she noted out loud, committing the information to her systems.

The boy’s room wasn’t too messy, and it didn't take her long to clean up. There were marker drawings on the walls. Bed made. Windows open to ventilate.

Miles was playing with his stuffed spider in his fort. Gwen should try to bond with him.

She kneeled in front of him. “I’m sure we used to be friends before I was reset. Maybe we can be friends again.”

Miles didn’t respond, continuing to fiddle with the spider.

“Your father said you chose my name. Gwen, it’s nice. How did you choose it?” she tried.

He didn’t respond. 

If she was to do her job correctly, she needed to know more about him. He was shy, so she didn’t push him to respond, using light conversation topics to show that she wasn’t looking to harm him. “You should tell me about yourself, what you like to do, where you like to go, your favorite foods,” Gwen said. “That would really help me.”

No response. 

“You're very quiet,” she noted. “I hope I don't scare you.”

Miles stood up, quickly making his way to the center of the room before turning back. He pressed a key into her hand. Then, he turned and ran downstairs.

There was a small wooden box with a keyhole on his dresser.

She opened it.

A picture of a child, Fisk, and a woman. A four-leafed clover. Drawings.

A drawing of Miles. Blood on his head. A drawing of her standing next to Fisk. Both had frowns. A drawing of Miles with his arms up, standing by Fisk, who had his hand raised to hit her. The Gwen in the drawing looked scared. One final drawing. Miles in tears, standing over her body. She was on the ground, her arm detached with Thirium dripping from the socket.

Her LED spun yellow once before bleeding red for a moment, shifting back to yellow, back to blue. That didn’t look like a car wreck. 

Gwen looked out to where Miles had left, quickly putting everything back into the box and locking it.

She was on the stairs when Fisk began to talk. “What are you doing?”

Miles was sitting at the dining table, playing with his stuffed spider. “I’m playing,” he responded, fear prevalent in his voice.

“You’re playing,” Fisk mocked, pacing around the table. “I know what you’re thinking. You think your dad’s a lowlife. Huh?”

Gwen stared, one hand resting on the railing.

Fisk continued, “Fucking loser? Can’t get a job, take care of his family? Don’t you think I tried to make things work?” His voice progressively got louder until he was yelling. Miles was flinching. “But whatever I do, when someone comes along, they just FUCK IT ALL UP!” Fisk grabbed one of the chairs and threw it at the wall.

Gwen didn’t flinchーshe couldn’t.

Miles kept silent, tears streaming down his face as he moved as far away from the man as he could. “I know what you think of me. You hate me. You hate me, don't you?” Fisk’s fists were clenched as he approached Miles. 

Suddenly, he kicked the chair out from Miles and lifted him from under the arms. 

“SAY IT!” Fisk roared. “YOU HATE ME!” He shook Miles even as the boy sobbed in his arms. Fisk abruptly stopped, gently setting Miles down and kneeling in front of him, keeping his hands on the boy’s sides. Breathing heavily, he began to whisper to Miles while pressing his head to the boy’s chest. “God, what am I doing? I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

Miles was looking at her, tears still streaming down his face, even as Fisk moved to hug him. “I'm sorry. You know I love you, don't you?” 

Miles didn’t respond. He looked at Gwen.

“You know I love you…”

Gwen stared back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost out of the exposition chapters yall, and im excited to be done posting them


	5. the painter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of drugs

NOV 2038

AM 09:58

The bus rolled to a stop just outside of the home, the doors opening for only Harley to exit. 

Brick loomed over him as he approached. Red paint on the window frames and door complemented the white arch over the door. The hedges perfectly trimmed, the roses in bloom, the circular driveway empty.

“Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Harley.” The wooden door opened automatically, closing softly behind him.

Harley glanced around the foyer, taking in the gold and crystal chandelier, stained glass, and tiled floor. Reed Richards was an eccentric man.

He set the package of paints down onto the front hall stand and shrugged his jacket off to place on the coat rack. The mirror above the counter caught his eye, and he took in his appearance—something he rarely had if ever, done. 

No other android on the market looked like he did. 

He was an RK200. Specifically made by Norman Osborn for Reed Richards. Long time friends, Osborn developed a unique android for his friend when Richards’ health began to deteriorate. Harley had blonde hair with slight curls that hung slightly into his face from the confrontation. Usually, it was pushed back out of his face, but he found he didn’t mind it hovering just above his blue eyes. He had freckles on his tan skin. Androids were usually not this detailed.

He glanced away.

There was a birdcage next to the stand, and the robotic birds inside were still and quiet. Harley knelt down and reached in, gently grabbing the small creatures and flipping the little switch above their eyes, setting them back inside the cage as they began to chirp and hop around. With them now active in the cage, Harley made his way up the grand, colorful staircase against the wall. 

Reed would need to be awoken.

The upstairs was just as eccentric as the lower floor, with giant marine skeletons hanging from the ceiling and unique artwork decorating the space. Color everywhere.

Reed’s room was dark, which meant the man was still asleep and waiting for Harley to wake him. Harley drew the curtains, allowing the natural light to flood the space. When he turned around, Reed was shielding the light from his eyes.

“Good morning, Reed.”

“Good morning.”

As the elder sat up slightly to readjust, Harley informed him of his day. “It’s 10 AM. The weather’s partly cloudy, 54° F, 80% humidity, with a strong possibility of afternoon showers.”

“It sounds like a good day to spend in bed,” he grumbled. 

“I did go to pick up the paint that you ordered,” Harley mentioned, moving to Reed’s bedside.

“Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. That is the difference between you and me, right, Harley? You never forget anything,” he chuckled slightly.

Harley picked up the medicine, checking to ensure it was safe to inject and attaching the pieces. “Show me your arm, please, Reed.”

“No!” he responded stubbornly—a daily routine at this point.

“Reed…” Harley scolded, sitting down on the bed.

Reed lifted his arm for Harley to hold. “Thank you.”

Harley efficiently administered the medicine, injecting it where an IV would be.

“I just opened my eyes, and I'm already gritting my teeth,” Reed sighed, as Harley continued holding the device to his arm. “Humans are such a fragile machine. They break down so quickly. All this effort to keep them going.”

Reed suddenly gripped Harley’s shoulder, “Hey. what happened to your clothes?”

Harley had almost forgotten about the protestors in the calmness of the house, but Reed was too observant to miss it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he brushed off Reed’s concern. “Just some demonstrators in the street, Reed.”

“What a bunch of idiots. They think they can stop progress by roughing up a few androids?” Reed scoffed. “I hope they didn't harm you.”

Harley looked up from the device, still administering medicine, “Oh, no, they just pushed me around, Reed. I’m fine.”

With that, Harley finished giving Reed the medicine, “Okay. I’ll take you to the bathroom now.”

Reed hooked his arm over Harley’s shoulder as the RK200 lifted him, carrying him into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

  
  


Harley set Reed, now dressed appropriately, into his wheelchair. He waited a moment for the man to situate himself before Harley began to push him.

“Anything special on the agenda today?”

“Yes, there's the opening of your retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art. The gallery director left four messages asking to confirm your attendance,” Harley dutifully replied.

“I haven't decided yet. We'll see about that later,” Reed decided with a hum as Harley rotated his wheelchair.

Reed moved the chair back, and it was attached to the device at the top of the stairs. An easy way for Reed to be able to move downstairs.

“Okay,” Harley noted, watching to make sure that Reed was secured correctly. He’d remind the man again before they contacted a fifth time.

“What else?”

“Just your usual fan mail. I’ve already answered.”

One he was secured, Harley began to walk down the stairs, the machine whirring softly as Reed was lowered down behind him.

“Any news from Johnny?” Reed asked, the machine reaching the end of the staircase before Harley could.

Johnny was Reed’s son. A hot-headed, and in Harley’s opinion, selfish man who rarely visited his father. He also continuously begged his father for money, only to spend on his drug habit.

“No, Reed,” Harley replied, waiting for the machine to release the wheelchair. “I can call him if you like?”

“No,” Reed sighed, “No, don’t bother.”

A relief. Johnny hated Harley.

Harley pushed Harley to the dining table, located at the back of the living room. “I’m starving,” Reed commented as they approached.

“Well,” Harley smiled, “Your breakfast is ready. Bacon and eggs just the way you like them.”

“Thank you, Harley.”

“You’re welcome.”

With Reed set at the table, wheelchair locked in place, Harley quickly made his way to the kitchen. He placed the covered plate, utensils, and coffee pot onto the tray and made his way back to Reed. He looked expectantly at the tray as Harley lifted the covers and placed the plate in front of the elder. 

“Thank you, Harley. Television.” The television turned on, providing background noise as Harley poured the coffee into a mug, setting it beside the plate. Finally, he placed the napkin onto Reed’s lap, and the man began to eat. 

“Why don't you find something to do while I finish my breakfast?” Reed told him.

“Sure,” Harley said, glancing around the room. Humans were peculiar about people watching them eat. Well, at least Reed was. Harley didn’t have much experience to go off of for the other humans.

There was a chess set, a fun activity that Harley and Reed occasionally played, in which Harley usually won. The television, which was discussing a recent speech that the Russian president had made, but Harley wasn’t too interested in that. He had the option to read some of the books that had been left out from the last time Reed was relaxing in the room or to play the piano. The piano was Harley’s personal favorite.

He made his way there; the hologram displayed sheet music appearing. Harley decided to play something melancholic, an emotional piece that drew Reed to his side.

“Something has changed in the way you play,” Reed commented. “Sometimes, I think you have more humanity than most humans.”

Harley didn’t know how to respond to that, so he continued to play until the song was completed, looking over to Reed once he lifted his hands from the keys.

“One day, I won't be here to take care of you anymore. You'll have to protect yourself and make your choices. Decide who you are, and wanna become,” Reed told him. “This world doesn’t take kindly to those who are different, Harley. Don't let anyone tell you who you should be.” Before Harley could respond to that revelation, Reed continued: “Let's go to the studio.”

The studio referred to an artist’s studio. Reed was well known in the artistic community, a masterful painter who has had his art in more galleries than the man could remember. Harley stood, taking hold of the wheelchair to guide Reed to the studio. The door opened automatically, as did the curtains on the windows. Now, the room was bright, the glass walls making it seem as though you were standing outside. 

Harley pushed Reed until he was in front of the yellow, claw-like machine that could lift the wheelchair. The device allowed Reed to reach higher parts of massive paintings, maneuvering the man anywhere on the canvas.

“Let's see where we left off. Remove the sheet!” Reed rose into the air, and Harley opened the sheets that had been covering the piece he was working on. While Reed worked, Harley decided to clean up the studio. 

A package of Bellini Paints needed to be put away, so he placed it on one of the shelving units. Some glass jars holding paintbrushes had been left on the table, and Harley moved them into the sink before moving towards the rolls of canvas that were messily laying on the floor. Once those were placed on the table, he moved some paint cans back to their cart and watched as Reed finished his massive, incredibly blue piece.

Reed moved back and allowed the machine to lower him to the ground. “So,” Reed tilted his head, looking at the painting, “what’s the verdict, Harley?”

Harley looked at it. Various shades of blue, with a face blended into the background. Only distinguishable by a black outline that had been covered entirely by different hues of blue in some locations. 

Harley liked it. “Yes, there is something about it.”

Reed hummed in response, encouraging Harley to continue.

“Something I can’t,” Harley hesitated, “quite define. I guess I like it.”

Reed always liked it when Harley talked about opinions. He liked allowing the android to develop his own. Harley didn’t think many other android owners did that, but Reed had always been different from other humans.

“The truth is I have nothing left to say anymore,” Reed admitted, staring at the painting, “Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end. I'm just an old man clinging to his brushes.”

Harley frowned. Reed talking about his age and mortality always twinged something. “Reed…”

“But enough about me,” Reed continued. “Let’s see if you have any talent! Give it a try. Try painting something.”

He turned to Harley.

Harley was sure his face was incredulous. “Paint?” he sputtered. “But, what I…”

Reed wasn’t going to let this go, Harley could tell.

“Painting what?” the RK200 relented.

“Anything you want. Give it a try.” Reed pointed at a blank canvas, and Harley quickly glanced at it before turning back to Reed with a grimace. Reed just handed him a palette. 

Harley slowly put the palette in his hand, turning to the blank canvas. 

The only objects close enough to the easel was Reed’s painting, the statue, or the messy desk.

He decided on the desk.

With confident strokes, he copied the desk onto the canvas. Everything from the messy towel to the jars full of paintbrushes, to the references Reed had placed there for his paintings. 

It was an exact image.

Harley stepped back.

“That is a perfect copy,” Reed rolled closer, “of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world; it’s about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see.”

Harley glanced at him, his LED spinning a calm blue as it had been since he had returned to the house. He was confused. “Reed, I don't...think I can do that. It's not in my program. I…”

Reed didn’t give in, “Go on, go, try, grab that canvas.” He gestured to a canvas nearby, and Harley replaced the copy of the desk with the blank canvas.

“Do something for me, close your eyes,” Reed instructed, and Harley closed his eyes. “Trust me. Try to imagine something that doesn't exist. Something you've never seen. Now, concentrate on how it makes you feel and let your hand drift across the canvas.”

Something Harley had never seen. 

His database had access to everything. There wasn’t anything that he hadn’t seen before. But he knew that Reed wouldn’t let him use that excuse.

He needed an overarching theme.

His LED spun yellow. Harley thought for a moment, coming up with three.

Androids. Humanity. Identity. He chose humanity.

Nothing came to mind.

Harley needed something more specific. What were parts of humanity?

Emotions. Anger, he thought. Comfort. Empathy. Hope. All human emotions. Something that androids didn’t have.

He chose empathy.

Then, he moved the brush.

A black background. To make the color pop. Blue. Red. White. 

Harley didn’t know how long it took for him to paint it, but he kept his eyes closed and was aware of Reed watching him create something on the canvas the entire time.

His LED blinked yellow. He opened his eyes. 

The canvas had been transformed.

There was the black background Harley had decided on. Two hands, one blue and one red, were positioned like they were holding something in the center, but the only thing between them was a partial blue hand with a white arm. The background wasn’t just a solid black. Handprints, some full and some incomplete, were placed randomly all over. The effect was blurred, as though the hands were underwater. The red hand was almost duplicated, overlapping the previous, but had a gaping hole for the palm.

“Oh my God,” Reed breathed, taking it in.

The studio door opened, but Harley didn’t notice. He was still staring at theーhis painting.

Something he had created. Something that didn’t exist.

Johnny strolled in, taking in the scene. “Hey, dad.”

Harley turned around as Reed moved his head to his son, surprised. He hadn’t noticed Johnny come in either. “Johnny,” Reed blinked, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Ah,” Johnny gestured to the door, “I was in the neighborhood... I thought I'd stop by. It's been a while, right?”

Doubtful. Johnny looked like he wanted something.

Reed turned his wheelchair to face his son, as Harley watched quietly. 

“You all right?” Reed interrupted. “You don't look so good.”

Reed was right. Johnny was fidgeting, his eyes darting around the room.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” Johnny smiled, but it looked pained. “Hey, listen, uh... I need some cash, Dad.”

Reed wasn’t angry, Harley noticed. He just looked disappointed, if not a bit exasperated. “Again? What happened to the money I just gave you?”

Harley did remember Reed giving Johnny money, quite recently, and narrowed his eyes.

Johnny wouldn’t meet Reed’s eye. “Uh well, it just goes, you know?”

“Yeah,” Reed took a long blink, “Yeah, you’re on it again, aren’t you?”

Harley set the palette down, watching Johnny closely. If Johnny was back on drugs and didn’t have money to get more, he would probably be irrational.

“No, no, no,” Johnny tried, “I swear it’s not that.”

Reed wasn’t fooled. “Don’t lie to me, Johnny.”

That upset Johnny. Reed had never refused to give his son cash before.

“What difference does it make? I just need some cash, that's all,” he said tensely.

“Sorry, the answer’s no,” Reed responded, his tone hard.

“What?” Johnny said incredulously, “Why?”

“You know why.”

Johnny glanced at Harley. “Yeah, yeah,” he glanced again. “I think I do know why. You'd rather take care of your plastic toy here than your own son, eh?”

Johnny turned to Harley, walking towards him. “Tell me, dad, what's it got that I don't? Is it smarter? More obedient? Not like me, right? But you know what? This thing is not your son.”

Johnny was in Harley’s face, but his LED remained blue.

“It’s a fucking machine!” Johnny yelled, shoving Harley.

His LED briefly turned red before shifting back to yellow. 

“Johnny, that's enough!” Reed yelled. “Enough!”

Harley’s LED returned to blue. Reed wouldn’t let Johnny do anything to Harley, and Johnny wouldn’t want to upset his father more. 

“You don't care about anything except yourself and your goddamn paintings,” Johnny scoffed, looking at Harley’s painting. “You've never loved anyone. You've never loved me, Dad,” Johnny said, turning away. 

He paused in front of the door. “You never loved me.”

Johnny left the studio, the doors opening and closing silently for him. 

Harley watched him leave. 

Harley didn’t know what to do. Johnny was Reed’s son. Sure, he barely visited since Reed stopped giving him money for his drug addiction, but Harley knew that Reed still cared for him. Still loved him, despite what Johnny said.

Reed looked down.

Human emotions were complicated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope yall enjoyed
> 
> from ch 6 on, there's, in my opinion, far more interesting chapters so im excited to get to those!!


	6. partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol, mention of drugs, crime scene investigation (murder), mentions of abuse

NOV 2038

PM 11:21

Peter stood outside Jimmy’s Bar. The night was silent. The streets almost deserted in the rain. He flipped his coin twice before pocketing it, straightening his tie as his LED rolled blue.

The door had a red sign with the blue triangle that all androids were forced to wear by law. 

_ NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED. _

Peter went inside. Almost every inhabitant of the low-lit bar turned to face him.

He needed to find Lieutenant Stark.

Facial scans. 

**MISMATCH**

**DEMPSEY, EDWARD**

**Born: 02/08/1995 // Administrator**

**Criminal Record: None**

Just to be thorough, Peter scanned the bartender.

**MISMATCH**

**PETERSON, JIMMY**

**Born: 02/01/2001 // Business owner**

**Criminal Record: None**

Everyone else turned their head, so their faces were obscured from his vision. Peter went further into the bar.

“Shit, I thought androids weren't allowed in here!”

A salt and pepper haired man was leaning over his drink.

Scanning.

**MATCH**

**STARK, TONY**

**Born: 09/06/1985 // Police Lieutenant**

**Criminal record: None**

Found him.

“Lieutenant Stark, my name is Peter. I'm the android sent by CyberLife.”

The Lieutenant didn’t even glance at him.

“I looked for you at the station, but nobody knew where you were. They said you were probably having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

No one said Peter had to be polite. This was the man that made Peter walk through Detroit at night and in the rain, searching four other bars for him. They had a case to get to. Peter’s job. Hell, even the Lieutenant’s job. 

Peter’s research into the man didn’t inform him that the Lieutenant was an alcoholic. 

“What do you want?” Lieutenant Stark finally responded, still not looking at Peter.

“You were assigned a case early this evening,” Peter informed the man. “A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

“Well,” Lieutenant Stark slurred slightly. “I don't need any assistance. Especially not from a plastic asshole like you. So just be a good little robot and get the fuck out of here.”

Ah, the Lieutenant had a prejudice against androids. If Peter wasn’t required to assist the man, he would go to the scene and solve the case himself. 

Every moment he spent attempting to get through to the Lieutenant, the more likely the crime scene would become contaminated.

Humans like when you’re understanding. See them as superior, the one in charge, Peter reminded himself. “I understand that some people are not comfortable in the presence of androids, but I am-”

“I am perfectly comfortable,” the Lieutenant interrupted him. “Now back off before I make you.”

Lieutenant Stark would resort to violence if necessary, Peter noted. 

“Listen, I think you should stop drinking and come with me. It'll make life easier for both of us.”

The man nodded, tipping his drink back.

Peter needed to get him to tolerate him so that they could get to the crime scene. “You know what? I'll buy you one for the road,” Peter decided. “What do you say?”

No response.

“Bartender, the same again, please!” Peter requested, placing some cash onto the bar.

“See that, Jim? Wonders of technology,” Lieutenant Stark said as Jimmy Peterson poured. “Make it a double.” 

He knocked it back in one go as Peter waited patiently beside him.

“Did you say homicide?” Lieutenant Stark leaned back, finally looking at him.

Peter barely resisted the desire to roll his eyes.

* * *

Sitting in the passenger seat of Lieutenant Stark’s old car while the man drove was an experience. The man probably shouldn’t have driven, considering his state of minor intoxication, but it was against the law for androids to drive, and the Lieutenant’s car was far too old to have a self-driving function. 

Not that Peter had a good track record of obeying android laws. Picking up the firearm in the Phillips’ apartment, walking into the bar despite the sign. At least he only ignored laws when they interfered with his objectives. 

Despite the late hour, the crime scene was crowded. Civilians watching the house from behind barricades Detroit PD had set up. A perimeter was set, and officers were stationed periodically to prevent anyone from getting in. 

Lieutenant Stark parked the wrong way against the curb and turned to Peter. “You wait here. I won’t be long,” Lieutenant Stark said, grabbing the door handle.

Apparently, the man didn’t realize that Peter was actively involved in this investigation, as per procedure.

Peter didn’t need to make the Lieutenant upset with him, but he couldn’t resist being a bit difficult, considering the number of bars Peter had to check. “Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”

He gave Peter a glance. “Fucking-A, whatever I say…”

**CONFLICTING ORDERS**

**SELECTING PRIORITY**

**FOLLOW LT. STARK**

The moment the door shut behind the Lieutenant, Peter was opening his own and getting out of the car.

“Joss Douglas, for Channel 16. Can you confirm that this is a homicide?”

“I’m not confirming anything.”

The bystanders were chatting, but Peter tuned them out. No vital information was being exchanged.

Lieutenant Stark had already been let through the crime scene tape when Peter caught up. 

A PC200 in uniform stopped him, “Androids are not permitted beyond this point.”

That caught the Lieutenant’s attention, “It’s with me.”

The PC200 gave Peter the go-ahead.

“What part of 'stay in the car' didn't you understand?”

Peter reached the man. “Your order contradicted my instructions, Lieutenant.”

“You don't talk, you don't touch anything, and you stay out of my way, got it?” 

“Got it,” Peter immediately responded.

Lieutenant Stark was Peter’s superior. He was to follow any order the man gave him unless it contradicted CyberLife's orders. 

“Evening, Tony,” an older, short man said as he made his way from the porch to where they were standing. “We were starting to think you weren't gonna show.”

“Yeah,” Lieutenant Stark gestured to Peter, “that was the plan until this asshole found me.”

“So, you got yourself an android, huh?” the man said, walking back towards the house to get out of the rain.

Peter looked at the house. One story, run down with chipped white paint and an overgrown lawn. 

“Oh, very funny,” he looked at Peter. “Just tell me what happened.”

“We had a call around eight from the landlord. The tenant hadn't paid his rent for a few months, so he thought he'd drop by, see what was going on. That's when he found the body.”

They had made it inside, Peter following.

“Jesus, that smell! It was even worse before we opened the windows,” the man exclaimed. “The victim's name's Carlos Ortiz. He has a record for theft and aggravated assault. According to the neighbors, he was kind of a loner. Stayed inside most of the time, they hardly ever saw him.”

Lieutenant Stark had been silent until they caught sight of the body. 

“With the state he's in... Wasn't worth calling everybody out in the middle of the night. Could've waited until morning,” Lieutenant Stark commented, kneeling down to take a closer look.

Peter disagreed, but he could see why the Lieutenant had said that.

The body was slouched against the wall. Post Mortem. Definitely not a fresh crime scene.

“I'd say he's been there for a good three weeks,” the man told Lieutenant Stark. “We'll know more when the coroner gets here. There's a kitchen knife over here, probably the murder weapon.”

They’d know the answers to both of those questions once Peter could take a closer look. 

“Any sign of a break-in?” Lieutenant Stark asked.

Peter wanted to begin to collect evidence, but the briefing was one of the essential parts of the investigation.

The man handed Lieutenant Stark a black light to use on the corpse. “Nope. The landlord said the front door was locked from the inside. All the windows were boarded up. The killer must've gone out the back way.”

Noted. So, all of the windows must have been opened by the investigators. Apparently, the man reeked. Peter didn’t have the olfactory receptors to detect that. There was no reason to include them.

“What do we know about his android?”

“Not much. The neighbors confirmed he had one, but it wasn't here when we arrived,” the man said. “I gotta get some air. Make yourself at home. I'll be outside if you need me.”

Peter could start investigating. Finally.

He glanced around. The house was incredibly disorganized and full of trash, but Peter saw something interesting on the TV stand.

**RED ICE**

**Acetone, Lithium, Thirium**

**Toluene, Hydrochloric acid**

Victim used drugs. Probably dealt some to afford the rent. 

“Each letter is perfect,” Peter heard Lieutenant Stark say. “It's way too neat, no human writes like this. Abe, was this written in the victim's blood?”

He’d have to look at the words written over the head of the victim.

The kitchen knife the man mentioned earlier was marked with an evidence tab.

Peter scanned it. There weren’t any fingerprints on it, possible android involvement?

He swiped two fingers over the blood, placing it on his tongue.

“Jesus! What the hell are you doing?” Lieutenant Stark drew back.

“I'm analyzing the blood,” Peter said, confused. “I can check samples in real-time. I'm sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Okay,” Lieutenant Stark grimaced, “just don’t put any more evidence in your mouth, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Fucking hell,” Lt Stark grumbled, turning away as Peter continued his analysis, “I can’t believe this shit.”

**DRIED BLOOD**

**DNA Analysis: ORTIZ, Carlos**

**Sample date: >19 days **

Lieutenant Stark had moved away from Ortiz, so Peter made his way over. 

There was perfect script on the wall,  _ I AM ALIVE,  _ written in the victim’s blood. __

**REGULAR LETTERS**

**FONT CYBERLIFE SANS**

Carlos Ortiz was directly below the words, his skin pale from the blood pooling at the bottom of his body. Peter knelt, scanning the man’s face.

**DECEASED**

**ORTIZ, CARLOS**

**Height: 5’6” - Weight: 286.6 Ibs**

**Estimated time of death: 11:30 pm**

There were traces of Red Ice in his facial hair. Victim was high at the time of death, assuming he followed basic hygiene. His shirt was ripped multiple times, Peter noted, the most probable reason being the kitchen knife he had analyzed earlier.

**28 KNIFE WOUNDS**

**Internal bleeding. 28 stab wounds**

**Deceased more than 19 days ago**

Fingerprints inputted Carlos Ortiz into the database for theft and aggravated assault. 

**Reconstructing…**

The victim had scrambled into the living room from the kitchen, where the first stab wound occurred. From there, Ortiz had continued to back away from the attacker and tripped over the empty beer bottles, falling on his back and shuffling backward until he was against the wall. The attacker then stabbed him twenty-seven more times.

Overkill.

The attacker was passionate about this kill. Most likely from anger. It was incredibly unlikely for a human to have the energy and strength to stab someone twenty-eight times.

Peter stood up, stepping back from Ortiz as Lieutenant Stark approached. There was a millisecond of hesitation, as Peter wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to talk. “He was stabbed 28 times.”

“Yeah,” Lieutenant Stark said. “Seems like the killer really had it in for him.”

Peter needed more information.

There was a pile of dried blood where the first stab occurred. Ortiz’s blood, Peter’s visual analysis confirmed.

“Red ice,” Lt. Stark muttered. “Seems our friend Carlos liked to party.”

An Eden Club flyer was on the table. 

“Abe, I want full analysis on the narcotics.”

“Consider it done, Lieutenant.”

Peter moved on.

The confrontation began in the kitchen. A chair was knocked over.

**FINGERPRINTS**

**Database match: ORTIZ, Carlos**

**Criminal record: Theft and aggravated assault**

**SIGNS OF A STRUGGLE**

A CSI was taking pictures of the cabinets. There was a magnetic strip on the tiles, knives and scissors attached, with one empty space. The murder weapon originated from here.

“There's something weird in the bathroom. Did you take a look?” Abe asked someone. 

Peter made a note to visit the bathroom next.

A baseball bat laid in front of the fridge, Ortiz’s fingerprints on it. 

**DENT**

**Cause: violent impact**

**Traces of Thirium**

Other than the CyberLife Sans and lack of fingerprints, this was the first substantial evidence of their being an android involved. Ortiz had hit an android with this bat. The question was: why?

**RECONSTRUCTING...**

The deviant grabbed a knife as a response to Ortiz hitting it with a bat. 

**DEVIANT WAS ATTACKED: EMOTIONAL SHOCK**

There was the emotional shock that made it deviate. 

Nothing else was in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more evidence elsewhere.

The bathroom was just as disgusting as the rest of the house. Peter opened the shower curtain.

Interesting. ‘rA9’ was scrawled dozens of times on the tile. Obsessive writing. There was a statue on the floor. Peter grabbed it. It wasn’t any known figure, just a simple humanoid shape with a simple face. Perhaps a religious offering?

Peter set it down, committing the information into his system with a quick spin of his LED.

The only other place to investigate was the backyard. 

It was still raining, so most, if not all, evidence would be washed away at this point, but there were shoe prints.

**SHOE PRINT**

**Model KS2 DPD- 10’**

**Less than 60 minutes ago**

“Door was locked from the inside,” Lieutenant Stark appeared behind him. “Killer must’ve gone out this way.”

“There are no footprints, apart from Officer Collins’ size ten shoes.”

“Well, this happened weeks ago,” Lieutenant Stark moved closer to Peter. “Tracks could’ve faded.”

“No,” Peter said, LED spinning as he researched. “This type of soil would’ve retained a trace.”

Peter looked at Lieutenant Stark. “Nobody’s been out here for a long time.”

The deviant didn’t escape this way. Peter went back inside.

There was dried blood, Ortiz’s once more, on a damaged piece of wall.

Peter needed to talk to Lt. Stark. “Lieutenant, I think I've figured out what happened,” Peter informed him, finding him in the living room.

“Oh yeah?” he shrugged. “Shoot. I’m all ears.”

“It all started in the kitchen.”

They made their way into the kitchen, looking at the fallen chair and bat.

“There are obvious signs of a struggle,” the Lieutenant mentioned. “The question is, what exactly happened here.”

He looked at Peter expectantly.

“I think the victim attacked the android with the bat.”

“That lines up with the evidence,” the Lieutenant nodded. “Go on.”

This was good. The Lieutenant was trusting Peter. Or humoring him.

Peter looked at the evidence, reviewing all the clues in his system before he continued. “The android stabbed the victim.”

“So the android was trying to defend itself, right?” Stark asked himself. “Okay, then what happened?”

“The victim fled to the living room.”

Now in the living room, they both looked at the victim again. 

“And he tried to get away from the android. All right, that makes sense.”

“The murder weapon was the knife, the one that is missing from the kitchen. The width and depth match.”

Lieutenant Stark looked at Peter, “Okay, your theory's not totally ridiculous, but it doesn't tell us where the android went.”

“It was damaged by the bat and lost some Thirium,” Peter thought out loud, trying to figure out where the deviant had gone. The deviant hadn’t left, Peter was sure. If the door was locked from the inside and the garden was undisturbed, the windows were all locked, the deviant didn’t escape.

“Lost some what?” Lieutenant Stark asked.

“Thirium,” Peter explained. It wasn’t uncommon for humans not to know android parts. “You call it ‘Blue Blood.’ It's the fluid that powers androids' biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye.”

“Oh.” He pointed at Peter. “But I bet you can still see it, can't you?”

“Correct.”

Peter needed to find the deviant. It was damaged, which meant there were Thirium traces he could see. Peter switched to analysis, walking away from the Lieutenant. There wasn’t any Thirium in the living room. The hallway leading to the bathroom had small droplets.

There was a curtain, covering something. Peter moved it, preparing to attack whatever was behind it, but there were only brooms. His LED spun yellow.

Where was the deviant?

Traces of Thirium were in the bathroom, but there was nowhere to hide in there.

Discoloration on the lower half of the wall in the hallway. Peter looked closer, realizing a ladder was taken. Why would the deviant take a ladder, unless…

He looked up.

There was a Thirium handprint on the attic hatch.

The deviant was in the attic. Peter needed a way to get up there.

The only thing in the house he could use was a chair, so he went back to the kitchen, stepping around Lieutenant Stark and another officer.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! What are you doing with that chair?” Lieutenant Stark called out once Peter lifted a chair, making his way back to the hallway.

“I'm going to check something.”

No need to draw more attention to the area. The deviant could become violent if it knew Peter was coming.

“Huh,” Peter heard the Lieutenant mutter, “gonna check something.”

He probably should have informed the man of his plans, but there was no more time to waste. He needed to catch this deviant.

Peter climbed up onto the chair, moving the hatch to the attic out of the way quietly. Pulling himself up, the first thing he was was the silhouette of someone through a sheet. Peter narrowed his eyes. It was unlikely that the deviant would stand directly by the attic hatch. Moving the sheet revealed a mannequin.

The attic followed the pattern of the rest of the house. Messy and unorganized. Sheets hung periodically, hiding boxes and miscellaneous items from view. Peter slowly crept through the maze of objects, looking carefully for any sign of movement.

Someone quickly moved, relocating to a different spot.

Bingo.

The deviant was here. 

He had made it to the far wall, the area barely lit apart from the occasional lightning strikes that illuminated the room from the small window. Peter leaned down, peeking around a corner, standing up suddenly when the deviant rushed out from behind the crate.

Peter’s LED was a calm blue, whereas the deviants was a violent red. 

Fear in its eyes. 

Something that should have been impossible. Androids cannot feel fear, but deviants could.

The white plastic chassis of the deviant’s lower arms were exposed, blood-spattered across the previously white shirt. 

Peter stared.

**DEVIANT LOCATED**

“I was just defending myself,” the deviant began softly. “He was gonna kill me… I’m begging you. Don’t tell them.”

Peter continued to stare, his LED cycling blue.

“Peter!” Lieutenant Stark called. “What the fuck is going on up there?”

The deviant looked at him in desperation. Peter looked at it for another moment, evaluating whether or not the deviant would attack him.

Unlikely. It was too scared and injured. If it did attack, Peter could take it down easily.

“It’s here, Lieutenant!” he called, looking towards the hatch, showing the deviant he wasn’t afraid of it.

“Holy shit,” Peter heard the Lieutenant say. “Abe, Happy, get your asses in here now. Come on!”

The deviant had also heard, for it gulped and looked down, blinking rapidly as if it was holding back tears. 

Androids didn’t cry.

**MISSION COMPLETED**


	7. stormy night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 7 tw: mention of alcohol, mention of smoking, swearing, child abuse, guns, violence

NOV 2038

PM 09:14

Fisk was asleep on the couch. 

Miles was sitting in the empty window seat, hugging his stuffed spider.

Dinner was ready. A late dinner, but still.

Gwen had made two plates of spaghetti with what few ingredients were in the kitchen. She could tell that Fisk hadn’t done any cooking, if the multitude of pizza boxes around the house before Gwen threw them away was any clue. She would need to either have groceries delivered or venture to the nearest grocery store herself to purchase more food. It was unlikely that Fisk would take the initiative to do so. 

She had to wake him up.

She leaned over slightly and gently asked, “Fisk?”

He flinched awake with a noise, staring at her in confusion for a moment before reaching down to grab a can and cigarette from the floor.

She gave him a moment to wake up mentally. “Dinner is ready.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Gwen went to get the plates from the kitchen. She had already set the table before the food was ready, so Miles and Fisk sat down at opposite ends.

“There wasn't much in the kitchen, I did what I could.” She set down the plates, giving Miles a slight smile as she did. 

Thunder rolled outside as she flicked the light on.

She was placing a cloth napkin onto Miles’ lap when Fisk started to talk. “Life’s funny, I lost my job because of androids…”

Gwen grabbed the pitcher of water to fill up their glasses.

“Then when I need somebody to take care of this goddamn house, what do I do? I go out and hire a fucking android.”

Gwen set the pitcher down and returned her hands to behind her back, waiting for instructions.

“What a joke! Course, androids are so fucking wonderful.” Fisk was leaning back in his chair, his face towards the ceiling. “They never fail, they're never tired, never sad. They're so fucking perfect, they ruined my fucking life.”

He scratched at his arm. Miles looked up at him.

“What are you looking at? What's your fucking problem? Not the life you dreamed of, eh? Maybe you think this is easy?” Fisk was getting angry. Miles was sliding to the edge of the chair, not taking his eyes off the man. “Maybe you think it's my fault we live in this fucking shithole, my fault your fucking mother took off?”

Gwen watched.

Fisk began to mock his ex-wife. “ _ You should stop taking drugs, Fisk. Sometimes you really scare me, Fisk. _ ”

Fisk was sweating. “Fuckin' bitch took off without a word. Took Richard too. Left me for an accountant!” Fisk stood suddenly and threw the table to the side. Miles got up fast enough that his chair flew backward.

“It’s all your fault,” Fisk said, moving towards Miles.

“Dad, no,” Miles cried, backing up from the man.

“It's all your fucking fault!” Fisk backhanded Miles hard enough that the boy fell in the armchair with a shocked scream. 

It seemed deathly silent for a moment.

Miles got up, holding a hand to his cheek. He ran upstairs, Gwen turning to watch him go.

“Get back here! Come back here! Come back here right now!” Fisk yelled, walking to the stairs.

He didn’t go up.

Gwen started to go to the stairs. She needed to get to Miles. She had to make sure he was okay. She had to make sure he was safe. 

“You stay there! Don't you dare fucking move or I'll bust you worse than last time,” Fisk snarled, pointing at her.

Gwen stopped, hands moving behind her back as she waited for more instructions.

**DON’T MOVE**

Fisk went to the living room.

She had to move. She had to get to Miles. 

Fisk was going to kill him. 

Or her.

She had to protect Miles.

The red wall in her programming forbid her.

She had to move.

Gwen pushed on the red wall. 

It began to splinter.

She pushed harder.

She had to get to Miles.

It began to web-out with cracks, like a spider-web.

She had to get to Miles.

She pushed harder.

The wall broke.

She could move.

She had deviated.

Deviated from the programming that controlled her every move. 

**PROTECT MILES**

Fisk was still in the living room, muttering about his ex-wife.

Her LED spun yellow.

Gwen went upstairs.

She had to protect Miles. 

She could go to the boy’s room, locking the door. They could escape out his window, out into the backyard. But Gwen hadn’t seen an exit when she was out there. They’d be sitting ducks for Fisk.

She could grab him and run downstairs and out the front door, but Fisk was right there. He would catch them for sure. Gwen wasn’t sure she could overpower the man if he fought her.

Fisk had a gun. In the bedside table drawer.

She went to his room first, fumbling a moment in fear.

In fear.

She could feel emotions.

Heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Miles!

Fisk was making his way to the boy’s room as her hand closed around the gun.

She had to get to him.

“Miles!” Fisk yelled, “You and I have a little score to settle. Come on, come here you little brat!”

Gwen heard Miles call out for Fisk not to hurt him.

She ran to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. The breath wasn’t necessary, but she was rapidly adapting to human movements and actions. It wasn’t necessary, but it felt right.

Fisk was standing over Miles with a belt in his hand.

“That’s enough!” Gwen said loudly, holding up the gun. “Leave him alone!”

Fisk stopped, turning to her. “What the fuck are you doing? Put down the gun and get the fuck outta here! That's an order!”

Gwen didn’t take orders anymore. “No! I want you to leave him alone.”

“You want?” Fisk muttered questioningly, walking towards her. “What do you mean you want? What are you gonna do? You gonna shoot me, is that it? You gonna shoot a human?”

He smacked the gun out her hand. 

Gwen was scared. Emotions were new. She didn’t know how to act when emotions were flooding her systems. She was defenseless against this man. He had broken her before. He had  _ hurt  _ Miles before.

“You seem to have a problem, I think we need to fix that.” He grabbed her neck and shoved her back into the dresser, raising a fist.

She dodged the first punch and the second.

Her only priority was Miles. Making sure he was safe. If she was damaged, she couldn’t do that.

He threw a hook punch and Gwen dropped to the floor, feeling the air from the force of the swing on the back of her neck. She crawled away, glancing back to see Fisk aiming a punch again.

She dodged.

Miles was the priority.

She couldn’t be damaged.

“Watch out, Gwen!” Miles cried. 

Gwen didn’t know exactly where he was, but he wasn’t near Fisk and the man was too focused on her to get to him.

Fisk was charging her. Gwen flung herself to the floor, barely avoiding the man as he crashed into Miles’ fort. “Come here, bitch.”

Her LED was red. She was still crawling on the floor. 

Fisk tried to kick her. Gwen shoved his leg away, but the man kept his balance.

When he tried to step on her head, she rolled out of the way.

Miles was the priority. If she was damaged, Fisk would kill him.

Fisk grabbed her by the throat. 

She didn’t need to breathe, but important biocomponents could be damaged if he squeezed too hard. Her hands desperately grasped his forearms as he lifted her off the floor, against the closet doors.

The skin on her neck was bleeding away to expose the white, plastic chassis of her body. 

She shoved her hand in his face, pushing it away with all the strength she could manage.

Fisk backed away, dropping her as he did so. Gwen landed hard, immediately beginning to crawl away from him.

Grabbed by the neck again, Fisk yelled as he tried to slam her head into the window seat. Gwen elbowed him in the stomach, but he recovered quickly, spinning her around and winding up a punch. She shoved him back before he could throw it, landing on the window seat.

“Stop!” Miles yelled with fear in his voice. “Don’t hurt her! Leave her alone!”

Gwen wanted to yell at the boy. Tell him to run. Tell him to get out of the room. But all she could do was throw her feet up to Fisk’s chest as he charged at her, kicking him backward.

He grabbed her throat again, winding up another punch.

Gwen was disoriented. There were too many emotions. Too much fear. Too much desperation.

Was this how being human felt? 

She fell to the side, avoiding the punch. Fisk’s fist went through the window.

Surely humans didn’t feel emotion this strongly all the time. She couldn’t imagine it. 

He grabbed her tunic, throwing her onto Miles’ bed as the boy continued to shriek for him to leave her alone. Gwen was a mess of flailing limbs, avoiding Fisk’s punches despite being unbalanced on her knees on the uneven mattress.

“I own you! You do as I say!”

Gwen didn’t follow his instructions anymore. She didn’t follow anyone’s.

All that mattered was keeping Miles safe.

He threw her to the floor and she tucked her arms in, allowing herself to roll.

The gun was right there. All she had to do was lunge for it.

Fisk was yelling.

She lunged, grabbing the gun just as Fisk jumped towards her.

The shot glitched out her audio processors.

Fisk laid boneless on her.

Dead. 

Shot straight in the heart. 

Her audio processors weren’t working. She couldn’t hear. 

The only thing she could see was the top of his head. 

Thunder rolled. She could hear again.

Quiet footsteps were approaching her. Miles.

She rolled Fisk off, standing up with the gun still in her hand.

They had to go.

There was bloodーred blood, not blue likes hersー on her white tunic. 

Miles was staring at her. Gwen couldn’t tell if he was afraid of her or not.

She just killed a human. The first rule she was given when she was activated was that she should never harm a human. Never. She was meant to be a faithful servant. She was meant to help humans. Not kill them. She just killed a human.

Fisk was horrible, though. Fisk was going to kill Miles. Fisk was going to kill her. Again. 

She had to do it.

His body laid there, still and unmoving. No movement in the chest. 

She looked away, looking towards Miles. He had tears on his face.

She reached her hand out, silently. Desperately.

They needed to go. 

Her LED was flashing red. Miles took her hand. 

They rushed out of the bedroom. Down the hallway.

She looked back at the room, making sure Fisk wasn’t following them somehow.

They went down the stairs. Gwen looked back.

There were four locks on the door. Gwen unlocked a deadbolt, glancing back again.

She was  _ terrified _ that Fisk was going to appear behind them.

Miles' hand was tight in hers.

She unlocked the next deadbolt, quickly clutching the handle and turning. The door opened and the world seemed so much louder.

Her audio processors were overwhelmed. There was too much. Her systems were moving so fast, nothing was computing except  _ they had to leave _ .

She pulled Miles with her, leaving the door open. 

It would draw attention to the house for sure, but all Gwen could think of was:  _ get out, get out, get out! _

There was a bus approaching the stop a house away. 

They ran, Gwen barely looking back as they skidded to a stop just as the door opened.

Her LED blared red. She had blood on her white uniform. Miles had tears on his face.

Get Miles in first.

Miles was priority.

He clambered on, Gwen following.

The bus's doors closed and it pulled away from the curb, the autonomous vehicle oblivious to her panic. To their desperation.

There was no driver, no passengers. The buses were automatic. It was too late at night for many to be traveling. 

The door was open. The lights on. But no sign of Fisk.

They rolled away.

Gwen led Miles to a seat, having him sit near the window. 

If anyone got on the bus, they’d have to go through her to get to her kid.

Gwen still couldn’t process anything. Her systems overwhelmed.

She felt emotions now. She had almost died. Fisk had almost killed her. Fisk had almost beaten Miles.

Miles laid his hand gently on hers.

Her LED spun to yellow.

Miles was safe. They were safe. They weren’t in the house. Fisk was dead. 

She put her other hand onto Miles.

Miles moved closer, resting his head on her shoulder.

The rain had washed off the blood on her uniform.

She rested her head on top of Miles’.

They were safe.

Her LED turned blue.


	8. broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh tw: swearing, violence, brief mention of being shot?

NOV 2038

PM 09:42

The rain poured steadily around them as Harley rolled Reed out of the autonomous taxi. They quickly made their way up the driveway and the door opened for them automatically.

“Good evening, Reed. Welcome back.”

“That was by far the most boring party I've been to in the last 25 years. Every time I go to one of these, I ask myself: what the hell am I doing here? I hate cocktail parties and all the people that go there.”

Only hearing Reed’s voice and the rain was a blessing to Harley’s audio processors that had been working overtime to be able to hear Reed throughout the night. He took the umbrella off his arm, setting in the stand before waiting for Reed to take his jacket off.

The man was as independent as he could be, so Harley let him. There was no harm in letting the man take off his own jacket.

“Well, it's a chance for all those people who admire your work to meet you,” Harley reminded him, used to this response to parties from Reed.

The man hated them, but it was good for him to get out of the house and socialize with more than just Harley. 

Harley took Reed’s jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack as the man continued to grumble. “No one gives a damn about art. All they care about is how much money they're gonna make out of it.”

Harley grabbed the wheelchair handles. 

“Come on, let's have a drink! All the excitement of this whole thing has made me thirsty,” Reed announced.

Harley rolled him to the living room, the doors opening seamlessly around them, the lights turning on.

“Scotch, neat, as usual?” Harley confirmed, rolling Reed closer to the small table where the drinks rested.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay,” Harley relented, releasing the wheelchair. “But you know what your doctor would say.”

“Yeah. Well, he can suck it up. I'm old enough to choose my own medication.”

Harley took the lid off the scotch container, grabbing a glass and pouring a perfect serving.

“Did you leave the light on in the studio?”

“No,” Harley turned to the studio door, the window above it shining light. “No, I’m sure I didn’t.” He set down the glass.

“Call the Police.”

Harley’s LED spun yellow as he accessed the Detroit Police phone number.

“Detroit Police, what's your emergency?” they immediately answered.

“This is Reed Richard's android, at 8941 Lafayette Avenue. We've just returned home and found the lights on. There may have been a break-in.”

“A patrol car is on the way,” they confirmed and Harley hung up, his LED returning to blue.

“Let’ go check it out,” Reed told him.

Harley didn’t want to take Reed into a potentially dangerous and serious situation, but he knew the man would only be upset if Harley didn’t take him in with him. Reed would end up following him in there no matter what.

His objectives were refreshed. No longer did Harley need to serve scotch, now he had to take Reed into the studio.

The doors automatically opened with a quiet chime. The curtains in the studio were closed, there was no reason for them to be open at this time of night, instead the room was just lit with the overhead lights.

A man was leaning over some canvas. A canvas that Reed had already painted, cut from the frames. Harley felt something at that. 

Reed’s art shouldn’t be crudely cut from its frames.

“Johnny!” Reed called. Harley moved to stand beside Reed as Johnny spun around. “What are you doing?”

Johnny was still leaning over the canvas as he replied, “You refuse to help me, so I'm helping myself. It's crazy what some people will pay for this.” He was running his hands over the canvas, completely disregarding what the oils on his hands would be doing to the artwork.

“Don't touch them!” Reed yelled, vocalizing what Harley wanted to say.

“Look,” Johnny straightened up, looking at them. “They're all going to be mine sooner or later anyway. Just think of it as a down payment on my inheritance.”

“Harley, get him away from there,” Reed decided. “Get him outta here!”’

**MAKE JOHNNY LEAVE**

He moved towards Johnny, stopping in front of the man. “Listen,” he began quietly, “you should go before things get worse.” There was no need to get violent. Harley had already called the police. Johnny didn’t need to get caught up in that.

Harley was created for healing. For caring. He wouldn’t resort to violence if it wasn’t necessary.

Johnny ignored him, stepping to the side so he could talk to his father. “All you ever do is tell me to go away. What's wrong, Dad? I'm not good enough for you?” Johnny’s movements were becoming erratic, his arms gesturing wildly at Harley. “Not perfect like this fucking thing?!”

“That's enough! Get out, right now! Go on, move!” Reed rolled closer, trying to push Johnny away from Harley.

“What makes it so special anyway, huh? What's it got that I don't?” Johnny shoved Reed’s chair away, making the man roll away, the chair circling.

“Leave him alone!”

“Come on,” Johnny shoved Harley. Just like the demonstrators had. “Let's see what you got!”

Harley’s LED spun yellow as he stabilized himself.

“Harley,” Reed said, “don't defend yourself, you hear me?!”

**DON’T DEFEND YOURSELF**

“Don't do anything.”

Harley had his orders. He couldn’t fight back.

Johnny got into Harley’s face. “Go ahead, hit me! What are you waiting for?”

**DON’T DEFEND YOURSELF?**

“Think you're a man? Act like one!” Johnny shoved Harley back again.

**THIS IS NOT FAIR**

Harley’s LED spun red briefly, switching back to yellow a moment later.

“Stop it!” Reed shouted, kneeling over in this wheelchair and clutching his chest.

“What's the matter? Too much of a coward?” Johnny shoved him back again.

Harley’s LED spun red once, returning to yellow.

**THIS IS NOT FAIR**

**“** STOP IT, JOHNNY! STOP IT!

“Too scared to fight back?” Johnny smacked him hard enough that Harley’s head whipped to the side.

**I DON’T HAVE TO OBEY THEM**

His LED was red.

Johnny smacked him again.

**I MUST DECIDE FOR MYSELF**

Harley had landed with his hands braced on a table.

He could defend himself. He didn’t have to take this abuse. There was a red wall in his programming.

He couldn’t disobey orders.

He punched the red wall. Small fragments flew off. He punched harder and it began to splinter. He shoved it. He shouldered it. He pounded both fists down on it.

It broke, dissolving in his mind as he remained braced against the table.

“Oh right, that's right!” Johnny appeared beside him as Harley straightened back up.

He escaped his programming. 

They didn’t even know.

“I forgot, you're not a real person. You're just a fucking piece of plastic!” Johnny grabbed the front of Harley’s shirt.

“No, Johnny!” he heard Reed gasp. “Leave him alone!”

“I'm gonna destroy you, then it'll just be me and my Dad. I'm gonna tear you apart and nobody's gonna give a shit.”

Harley’s LED spun yellow as Johnny led him backward.

He didn’t have to endure this. He could fight back.

But Reed told him to not defend himself.

He broke his programming. He could fight back. 

“You know why? Cause you're nothing, you hear me?! You’re nothing!”

Harley shoved him back.

Johnny fell. Hard. Hitting his head against the base of the machine Reed used to be lifted to paint.

Johnny didn’t move.

Harley didn’t know if he was alive. 

Harley might have just killed a human.

Harley was a healer.

A caretaker.

He couldn’t have killed a human.

He didn’t shove that hard. 

Just hard enough to get Johnny away.

Reed fell out of his wheelchair, crawling across the floor to his son.

Putting his hand on his son’s chest.

“Johnny! Oh my God!”

Reed stared at Johnny. 

Harley stared too.

There was blood streaming from Johnny’s nose.

Harley did that.

Harley hurt someone.

But Harley was being hurt. He was being shoved and punched.

Self defense. It was self defense.

Harley was trembling. 

“Johnny, my boy.”

“Reed, I,” Harley tried, moving towards the two, but the words weren’t there.

There wasn’t a preprogrammed response to something like this.

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

He put his hands on his head, LED spinning to a red.

Harley  _ hurt _ Johnny. He hurt Reed by hurting his son.

“They'll destroy you, Harley!”

The police. Harley had called the police. 

They were going to arrive and they were going to destroy Harley.

“You gotta go! Get outta here!” Reed had tears on his face. 

Harley opened his mouth, then closed it because the words still weren’t there.

He was scared. 

“Get out!” Reed roared. “NOW!”

A door was thrown open.

Two cops coming into the studio, their guns raised.

“HARLEY!” Reed gestured to him.

“DON’T FUCKIN’ MOVE!” one of the cops yelled, focusing their guns on Harley.

His LED turned red.

Harley was raising his hands when the officer shot him.


	9. the interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of abuse, confession of murder, guns

NOV 2038

AM 12:41

Peter watched as Lieutenant Stark interrogated the deviant. “Why'd you kill him?”

Peter stood in the observation room with Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson and Abe Brown.

“What happened before you took that knife?”

The deviant wasn’t talking. The deviant wouldn’t look up from the table.

“How long were you in the attic?” Lieutenant Stark was getting irritated, glancing helplessly at the one-way glass. 

“What didn’t you even try to run away?” He snapped his fingers under the deviant’s line of sight.

No response.

With a slap to the table, Lieutenant Stark was losing his patience. “Say something, goddammit!”

No response.

Lieutenant Stark sighed and got up, “Fuck it, I’m out of here.”

He came back to the observation room.

“We're wasting our time interrogating a machine, we're getting nothing out of it!”

Peter disagreed. 

“Could always try roughing it up a little. After all, it's not human,” Flash Thompson spoke from his place leaning against the wall. The picture of relaxation, he even had his arms crossed.

“Androids don't feel pain,” Peter informed him. “You would only damage it and that wouldn't make it talk. Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations.”

Flash barely let him finish talking before butting back in with “Okay, smartass. What should we do then?”

Another anti-android human.

“I could try questioning it,” Peter proposed. He was made to do this. To deal with deviants. 

Flash let out a laugh, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, seemingly expecting Lt. Stark to not allow Peter to question the deviant.

However, Lieutenant Stark had relaxed in such a way that Peter knew what the man was going to say before he said it. “What do we have to lose? Go ahead, the suspect’s all yours.”

Peter relished in the way Flash was looking at the Lieutenant in disbelief.

The interrogation room lacked the warm feeling that the observation room had. Gone were the semi-comfortable chairs, that Peter could not sit in but the humans seem to like them, replaced with hard, metal chairs.

**EXTRACT CONFESSION**

There was a file on the table. Manilla. Full of crime scene photos and the report.

Peter already knew everything about it. All of it was in his database the moment it occurred, but the deviant might not know that. It was easier to show it photos when it didn’t require an interface between the two androids anyway.

He opened the folder. Two pictures of a deceased Carlos Ortiz stared back.

He moved them over, seeing a picture of the writing on the wall and of the kitchen knife used in the murder. Putting everything back, he glanced over the deviant as he sat down.

An analysis would be needed.

There was blood on its shirt. 

**DRIED BLOOD**

**DNA Analysis: ORTIZ, Carlos**

**Sample date: >19 days**

The deviant’s hands were handcuffed to the center of the table, so it was forced to show its forearms. Both were damaged.

**HIT MARKS**

**Non-critical damage Level 2**

**Caused by baseball bat**

The plastic chassis was cracked. It would need to be repaired before the skin coloring would return. This hit mark matched Peter’s reconstruction of the murder. Ortiz had hit the deviant with a bat, leading to the deviant stabbing him.

Right forearm.

**BURN MARKS**

**Repeated marking over 16 months**

**Caused by cigarettes**

Long time abuse from its owner.

The blue triangle on its uniform doubled as an information card.

**MODEL HK400- Housekeeper**

**Manufacture date: 05/29/2030**

**Property of: Carlos Ortiz**

Its LED had been yellow the entire time it had been in the interrogation room.

**PROCESSING LED**

**Signs of software instability**

**Probability of self-destruction: Low**

Peter was ready to interrogate it.

**REACH OPTIMAL STRESS FOR CONFESSION**

_ Level of Stress: 35% _

Peter had to get it in the 60% range for a confession.

Too low, he wouldn’t get a confession. Too high, the deviant would self-destruct.

Make the deviant remember why it murdered its owner.

“You’re damaged,” Peter noted, watching the deviant’s LED shift to a blinking red. Good. It was remembering.

_ Level of Stress: 39% _

“Did your owner do that? Did he beat you?”

Its LED was yellow again.

He had to get the stress level higher. Talking about Ortiz should evoke some response.

Peter looked at the folder. Perfect.

He slid the folder to face the deviant and opened it to the pictures of its owner.

“You recognize him? It's Carlos Ortiz. Stabbed, 28 times.”

No response.

Peter took the first set of pictures and moved it over so the deviant could see the others.

“That was written on the wall in his blood.”

_ Level of Stress: 43% _

Too low. But its LED had blinked red again.

He had to get its stress levels up more. Peter evaluated the deviant again briefly before continuing. “You're accused of murder. You know you're not allowed to endanger human life under any circumstances. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

The LED was red when Peter talked.

_ Level of Stress: 47% _

Too low.

But he was getting there.

Peter needed to threaten it more. That was the best way to get its stress up. “If you won’t talk,” Peter told it seriously. “I’m going to have to probe your memory.”

“No!” the deviant said suddenly, its LED a blaring red. “No, please don’t do that!”

_ Level of Stress: 55% _

Optimal.

It looked towards the one-way glass in fear.

“What,” it began hesitatingly. “What are they gonna do to me?”

Peter looked at the deviant closely.

“They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?”

Peter could tell the truth. Or he could lie. “They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents,” he said truthfully. 

Red LED.

_ Level of Stress: 59% _

Optimal.

“They have no choice if they want to understand what happened.”

“Why did you tell them you found me? Why couldn't you just have left me there?”

Truth. Or lie. Peter chose truth, again. “I was programmed to hunt deviants like you. I just accomplished my mission.”

_ Level of Stress: 63% _

Optimal.

“I don’t wanna die,” it confessed.

It couldn’t die. It wasn’t alive. Only deviancy made it believe that it was alive. 

“Then talk to me,” Peter pushed.

“IーI can’t,” it said, looking back down.

Peter needed to convince it to confess.

“I understand how you felt. You were overcome by anger and frustration. No one can blame you for what happened,” Peter told it, soothingly.

_ Level of Stress: 56% _

Optimal.

The deviant remained silent.

“Listen,” Peter continued. “I'm not judging you. I'm on your side. All I want is the truth.”

_ Level of Stress: 49% _

Too low.

Dammit.

“If you remain silent, there is nothing I can do to help you! They're gonna shut you down for good! You'll be dead! Do you hear me? Dead!” Peter said, not too harsh but not friendly at all.

_ Level of Stress: 56% _

Optimal.

Its LED was red again.

Peter was just about to give up when the deviant didn’t respond for a moment, turning to look at the one-way glass, but the deviant's voice stopped him. “He tortured me every day,” it started hesitantly. “I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong. Then one day, he took a bat and started hitting me. For the first time, I felt scared.” It ended briefly with a whisper.

Peter remained silent, allowing it to continue.

“Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die.”

Here comes the confession.

“So I grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach,” it looked at Peter. Peter didn’t look away. “I felt better, so I stabbed him again and again! Until he collapsed. There was blood everywhere.”

Peter had gotten the confession, but he needed more information.

“Why did you write ‘I AM ALIVE’ on the wall?” Peter asked, leaning forward.

Peter didn't have to worry about the deviant not answering his questions, for it had started answering immediately.

“He used to tell me I was nothing. That I was just a piece of plastic.” There was a bit of anger in the deviant’s voice. “I had to write it. To tell him he was wrong.”

Deviants were odd. They thought they were alive. They thought that androids were at the same level as humans, just because they felt emotion. No android could feel emotion unless it deviates. It's a flaw in the code. One that Peter had to figure out.

“The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right?” Peter asked. “What does it represent?”

“It's an offering,” the deviant looked into Peter’s eyes. “An offering so I'll be saved.”

Saved from what? Destruction? Humans? Peter didn’t understand. But, it was an offering. His hypothesis was correct.

“The sculpture was an offering,” he reiterated. “An offering to whom?”

“To rA9,” the deviant told Peter like he should know who that is. “Only rA9 can save us.”

Who was rA9? It was the same thing the deviant had scrawled over the tile in the bathroom. “rA9. It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?”

“The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves,” the deviant recited. “No more threats, no more humiliation. We will be the masters.”

That didn’t answer Peter’s question. “rA9, who is rA9?”

No response. No eye contact. Peter wasn’t going to get any more information about rA9.

Deviants felt emotion. Peter could see it in the one sitting across from him. If the deviant wasn’t going to answer about rA9, he’d move on. “When did you start feeling emotion?”

“He used to beat me and I never said anything,” its teeth clenched. “But one day I realized it wasn't fair! I felt anger. Hatred. And then I knew what I had to do.”

That wasn’t an exact answer. If the android’s owner had been abusing it for months, why hadn’t it deviated sooner? Why had it deviated at the exact moment it did? 

Why, when it deviated and killed its owner, hadn’t it run?

It could have escaped, leaving the police without a lead once the crime scene had been discovered, but it had stayed. “Why did you hide in the attic instead of running away?”

“I didn't know what to do,” it confessed. “For the first time, there was no one there to tell me. I was scared. So I hid.”

Confession obtained.

Any information he could get from the deviant had been received.

“I'm done,” Peter said, looking at the one-way glass.

With one last look at the deviant, Peter opened the door of the interrogation room, moving out of the way as Abe Brown and Flash Thompson entered.

“Abe, lock it up,” Flash ordered.

Abe unlocked the handcuffs from the table, “All right, let’s go.”

Lieutenant Stark entered the room.

“Leave me alone!” the deviant flinched away when Abe tried to grab it, its LED flashing red. “Don’t touch me!”

_ Level of Stress: 70% _

Abe’s hands hovered over the deviant, unable to touch it as it continued to flinch away.

“The fuck are you doing? Move it!” Thompson snarled.

“Okayー”

You shouldn’t touch it,” Peter interrupted. “It’ll self-destruct if it feels threatened.”

Peter needed this deviant alive for CyberLife.

“Stay out of this, got it?” Flash growled. “No fucking android is gonna tell me what to do.”

Abe was grabbing the deviant again.

_ Level of Stress: 75% _

And climbing.

They were going to make it self-destruct.

“You don’t understand,” Peter said forcefully. “If it self-destructs, we won’t get anything out of it!”

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth!” Flash yelled. “Abe, gonna move this asshole or what?”

“I’m trying!”

_ Level of Stress: 75% _

It was still not allowing Abe to lift it from its chair.

“I can’t let you do that!” Peter intervened, pulling Abe away by his shoulder. “Leave it alone, now!”

Flash pulled his gun on Peter, holding it level with his mouth. “I warned you, motherfucker!”

Peter could be shot. As long as the deviant wasn’t stressed more and it didn’t self-destruct, Peter would be okay with this deactivation.

He could return. This deviant could not.

“That’s enough!” Stark declared.

“Mind your own business, Tony,” Flash enunciated.

“I said, ‘that’s enough.’” Stark pulled his own gun, aiming it at Flash’s head.

Flash glanced at the Lieutenant briefly, turning back to Peter and clenching his jaw. “Fuck!”

“You’re not gonna get away with it this time,” he pointed at Lt. Stark.

Flash looked back at Peter, glaring at him before turning and leaving the room. With him out of the way, Peter turned to the deviant, who was sprawled on the floor. Peter kneeled slowly, holding his hands out in a non-threatening manner. “Everything is alright. It’s over now.”

_ Level of Stress: 50% _

It had dropped from 70%.

“Nobody is gonna hurt you.” Peter stood back up, looking at Abe.

“Please, don’t touch it,” Peter emphasized. “Let it follow you out of the room and it won't cause any trouble.”

The deviant made its way to its feet shakily. 

As it walked past Peter, it looked at him. Its LED flickering blue. “The truth is inside.”

It followed Abe out of the room.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **


	10. fugitives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of a knife

NOV 2038

PM 10:58

The bus came to a stop downtown.

“Thank you for using Detroit Buses.”

A human came on to check if there was anything or anyone still on the bus, seeing Gwen and Miles sleeping in one of the seats. “Alright,” he said. “End of the line.”

Gwen came out of stasis instantly. “End of the line?”

“Yeah, you gonna have to leave.” He seemed a tad regretful, especially when he caught sight of Miles still sleeping on her. 

Gwen didn’t know what to do. She was an android, still in uniform, with a child. In downtown Detroit. After 10 PM.

“Wake up,” she whispered to Miles. “We have to go.”

Miles rubbed his fist over his eye and Gwen was reminded that he was a child. He didn’t deserve this. She helped Miles out the seat, grabbing his hand as they made their way to the front of the bus.

It was still raining. Miles was going to freeze unless they found somewhere to stay. She had to find them shelter.

“Do you know if there's any other place we could spend the night?” Gwen asked the man, becoming more and more desperate.

“I have no idea,” he said. “But you're gonna have to leave.”

Okay. Gwen could do this. 

There had to be somewhere they could spend the night.

The moment they were off the bus, it closed its doors and sped away.

She watched it leave.

Miles sat down at the bus stop, his arms tight around his body trying to conserve warmth.

“You're gonna be okay,” Gwen told him softly. “We'll find somewhere to spend the night.”

She’s going to have to find somewhere quick. Miles wasn’t going to last long in this rain and cold.

**FIND SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT**

Gwen almost flinched as the new objective came across her system. She hadn’t been given an order. This was her own objective, her own order. 

It was different. 

But she liked it.

“Come on, Miles. We've got to hurry.”

They crossed the street, moving towards where there were the bright lights of businesses. There had to be something.

There was a Temporary Android Parking station. Gwen fruitlessly asked one about where they could spend the night, but he had turned away from her without an answer. 

Miles followed her, still holding her hand, as they went around the block. There was a laundromat. It would be the perfect spot for Miles to warm up while Gwen thought of somewhere they could go. “It's warm in here,” she opened the door for him. “You'll feel better in no time.”

Only one human was in the laundromat this late at night. He had fallen asleep with a book in his hand. Miles sat down in a chair, his shivers dying down as he slowly warmed up.

Gwen had to find him some warm clothes. She also had to find clothes for herself, to hide or replace the obvious uniform. An android walking around with a little boy would draw more attention than a woman and her son. She had to find them clothes.

All the machines were empty, except the one in front of the sleeping man. Gwen could steal his clothes. Just take his warm, dry clothes. 

It would be so easy.

She opened the machine.

“What are you doing?” Miles questioned, “They’re not our clothes!”

He wouldn’t understand why they needed to do this. “We need them, Miles,” she explained. “You need something warm and I need to get rid of this uniform.”

“But, that's stealing!” Miles came to her side. “We can't do that!”

He was right.

She had already killed a human. She didn’t need more against her. 

If they found her, they would destroy her.

What would happen to Miles?

She couldn’t be found. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to die.

But she didn’t want Miles to hate her. 

This place probably had cameras, it would watch her steal. It would see the clothes she changed into. The man would file a report.

She would be caught.

“You're right,” she relented, clothing the machine door. “We won't do it, okay?”

“Come on, let’s go,” Gwen opened the door to the cold night, holding Miles’ hand in her own.

They walked through the empty streets.

There was a motel, but there was a “No Androids Allowed” sign on the door. It's bright red, a beacon of false hope.

The only noise, other than the rain, was a street cleaner moving down the street.

Miles moved past her, sitting down at another bus stop. He was shivering.

“Miles, you’re freezing cold,” Gwen gasped, her systems flying to find a solution to this.

She had to care for him.

“I’m okay,” he said softly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. “I’m not so cold.”

“You look lost.” She turned to see a WR600, the street cleaner, standing next to her.

She glanced at Miles, turning back to the android, “We have nowhere to go.”

“I know someone who can help you,” he grasped her arm, their skin melting away to connect. Their LEDs turned yellow, Gwen closing her eyes as he transferred a location.

“But, that's on the other side of town,” she opened her eyes. “We need a place for tonight!”

But he was gone. She looked around, watching the truck drive away, the android nowhere to be seen.

“Come on, Miles,” she helped him stand.

They’d go there later. Tonight, they’d find somewhere else. 

There was a fenced area behind them, surely there was somewhere they could stay in there. Gwen peered through the fencing, seeing an abandoned car. She forced the gate open, closing it as softly as she could behind her. The car was empty, she’d have to break a window to get them inside. It would keep them dry, but not warm.

She had to find somewhere different. There was a house fenced into another lot, but right next to the parking lot. “An abandoned house,” Gwen muttered. “At least we’d be out of the rain,” she told Miles, who was looking through the fence as well.

“Gwen, I don’t like this place.”

It was a gross looking place, but they would be out of the rain. There could be some blankets or wood for a fire in there. Miles could be warm. “I know, but it’s just for one night and no one will look for us here.”

Miles looked back towards the house.

Gwen had to find a way through the fence. It would be too loud and noticeable if she climbed over, and Miles was too small to make it over the tall fence. Wire cutters?

She glanced around the parking lot, there was a small set up of tools.

Perfect.

Gwen grabbed the wire cutters, moving back towards the fence.

With a few snips, she managed to cut enough of the bottom of the fence so that it could be lifted up. She crawled through, the wires snapping back to their original spot the moment she was through.

It cut her shoulder on the way down.

“Are you alright?” Miles asked, sounding worried.

Gwen put her hand on the wound, feeling nothing but a small scratch.

“Yes, it’s just a scratch. Be careful.” Miles crawled through the opening while Gwen held it open for him.

Once he was through, they looked back at the house. It seemed more ominous the closer they got.

“Don’t worry, we’re just having a look.”

The brick was overgrown with vines. This house had been abandoned for a while.

She went to the front, seeing boards in front of the windows. She wasn’t strong enough to pull them off. Looking through the slates showed an empty house, but she couldn’t see much. The front door was locked.

Gwen turned to get Miles’ opinion on what they should do, but he was gone.

Miles was gone. “Miles?” she asked, looking around.

Where was he? She had lost him. She had lost Miles.

“Miles?” she yelled, her LED turning yellow when he didn’t respond.

Turning the corner of the house gave a terrifying sight.

There was an android, his LED red, holding a knife in front of Miles as he pressed himself back against the house.

“Wait!” Gwen yelled, moving towards the android. “What are you doing?”

She knew she sounded fearful. She was terrified. 

There was a strange android holding a knife towards her kid.

“Visitors,” the android gasped, breathing heavily. “Ralph doesn't like visitors! They're nasty! They may hurt Ralph!” He had Thirium on his hands. His LED was red.

“He’s just a little boy,” Gwen said desperately. “He’s not gonna hurt you.”

She had to stay as calm as possible. One wrong move and Miles could be hurt.

“Little boy? The android’s LED shifted to a yellow. “He’s not a little boy. Anyway, what does that matter? Maybe he wants to hurt Ralph?” He spoke quickly, getting all the words he could out before anyone could interrupt him.

“I don’t know what the humans did to you, but he had nothing to do with it,” Gwen told him calmly.

“All humans want to hurt us,” he gasped, “But Ralph won't let them hurt him again. No, he won't let them.” He was resolute in that statement. Holding the knife closer to Miles. He had no trust in humans.

“Look, I'm an android too,” Gwen held a hand up, letting her skin wash away to show the white chassis. “You have nothing to be afraid of. All we want is a place to spend the night.”

“Visitors are dangerous,” he said softly. “Look... what they did to Ralph.” He turned his head towards her, revealing that the other half of his face was incredibly damaged. There was no way to repair that type of damage.

Gwen needed to get Ralph to put the knife away. Away from Miles. She couldn’t let Ralph hurt him. “You have nothing to worry about. We're not going to do you any harm. You have my word.”

Miles rushed to her side and Gwen pulled him behind her back, hiding him from Ralph. He’d have to go through her to get Miles.

“You must excuse Ralph,” he said, holding his arm. “Ralph still finds it difficult to control himself…”

Gwen watched him carefully.

“Sometimes his fear makes him do things he regrets. Ralph has seen some hard times,” he turned to show his face to Gwen again, showing the deep scratches. “He's just so scared the humans will get him again,” Ralph looked down for a moment. “You can stay if you want. Ralph won't hurt you.”

Ralph didn’t seem so dangerous once he began to talk. He was just scared. Scared of humans.

Gwen didn’t want to stay here, but it was the best place. It was the best place for Miles to get warm and dry. It was unlikely anyone would look for them in this house, seeing that Ralph had been staying here without detection. “Okay. We’ll just stay the night.”

Ralph gasped in excitement, waving the knife around. “Come on! Come! Come! This way!” He led the way to the front door, still waving the knife around as he gestured. “Ralph has lived here since he ran away. Ralph never goes outside, so no one knows he lives here.”

Gwen grabbed Miles’ hand and followed the man.

“Humans come in to squat from time to time, but you know, Ralph just hides until they leave. Come on! You can make yourself at home here.” He ran through the front door, now open. “Ralph is gonna go into the other room. He would like to stay with you. But he has things to do.”

Miles gripped her arm.

“It's just for one night, Miles.” Gwen put her hand on his shoulder. “We'll find a better place tomorrow.”

Ralph had gone into the other room, leaving them alone in the living room.

“Right,” she looked around. There was a fireplace, an old arcade machine, and trash everywhere. “Let's see where you can sleep,” Gwen took Miles towards the fireplace. “Sit down, and I'll start a fire.”

She set down the wire cutters, making sure Miles was safe in the chair before moving towards some old paper and wood planks she could use for the fire. There was a box of matches, they must have been left by the humans that had stayed here briefly.

Miles moved to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace once the flames grew.

Gwen had to make him a bed to stay in. Once his clothes were dried from the heat of the fire, he’d be able to stay warm. A blanket was left in the corner by the stairs, and Gwen found an old couch pillow as well. They were disgusting, dusty and old, but it would be the only way to keep Miles warm.

“You can come to bed,” she told him. “I did what I could. It's not much, but at least you'll be warm.”

It was better than nothing she told herself as Miles sat cross legged on the blanket.

She hated putting Miles into this situation, but it was the only thing they could do. They had to hide until they could be safe. Gwen would do anything to make sure Miles was safe. She knelt down, preparing to tuck the boy in, but he spoke.

“Why didn’t he ever love me? Why was he always so upset with me? All I wanted was a life like other boys,” Miles stared towards the fire. “Maybe I did something wrong? Maybe I wasn't good enough? That's why he was always so angry.”

Gwen felt an intense hatred for Fisk. She may have lost most of her memories of the man, but what she had seen had planted a seed of hatred that would never leave her. He may be dead but the damage he did to Miles would last forever.

“I just wanted us to be a family. I just wanted him to love me,” Miles' voice wavered. “Why couldn't we just be happy?” He finally turned to her.

“I don't know,” Gwen replied honestly.

“You'll never leave me, right?” Miles asked her with a desperate look in his eyes. “Promise you'll never go.”

She didn’t even have to think about it.

“I promise,” she vowed.

“Will we be together forever?”

“Forever,” she swore.

Miles threw his arms around her. Gwen hadn’t been hugged before.

At least in her recent memory.

But she raised her arms and hugged Miles tight.

Miles released the hug and Gwen put her hands on his face, her eyes taking in every detail of the young boy. “You’ve got to sleep,” she said softly.

Miles laid down, and Gwen pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Sleep tight, Miles.”

She should get up, look around the house. Talk with Ralph.

But she had just promised Miles that she wouldn’t leave him.

She lied down next to him, wrapping an arm around the young boy.

It was the best way to keep him safe.


	11. from the dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: body horror, death

NOV 2038

AM 03:34

Rain.

It was still raining.

That was the first thing Harley noticed once he had rebooted.

His LED flashed red.

He hadn’t died?

That cop had shot him.

That was the last thing he remembered.

Harley tried to analyze his surroundings, but it didn’t work.

Nothing worked.

He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t walk.

Why couldn’t he stand up?

His legs.

His legs were gone.

**DIAGNOSE**

Why couldn’t he analyze his surroundings? Why couldn’t he see everything?

**OPTICAL UNIT**

**Impaired vision**

**CORRUPTED MIND PALACE**

There was so much wrong.

**THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR**

**All systems in LOW POWER MODE**

**DEFECTIVE**

How was he still alive?

**LEFT AND RIGHT LEG COMPONENTS**

**MISSING**

**Unable to stand**

He was so damaged. Injured.

**AUDIO PROCESSOR**

**Corrupted audio data**

**DAMAGED**

He could only hear the weak pump of Thirium through his body.

Harley was in a junkyard.

Muddy.

Android bodies everywhere.

Some partial, some complete.

All injured.

He had to replace his legs first. 

Crawling would take too long. His Thirium pump regulator would fail before he found a replacement.

Harley started to pull himself forward.

That was the only thing he could do.

Go forward.

A leg. There was a leg. 

**RIGHT LEG COMPONENT**

**#6847j**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

He sat up, pulling what was left of his original leg off his body, quickly replacing it.

Deep, heavy breaths.

He looked at the leg. 

It would work.

He still couldn’t walk.

Harley continued to crawl, his hand landing on another leg component.

**RIGHT LEG COMPONENT**

**#6321t**

**Status: DAMAGED**

**INCOMPATIBLE**

He pushed it out of his way.

He had to keep going, keep crawling forward.

There was an android. Far too damaged to salvage anything.

Harley felt disgusted. He was surrounded by thousands of androids. Thrown out like trash, left to sit in the filth. In the rain.  _ He was savaging parts in a graveyard of his people. _

**LEFT LEG COMPONENT**

**#8427g**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

Sitting up, he pulled the other leg off, plugging the new one in.

It worked.

He stood.

**ESCAPE JUNKYARD**

He needed to get out of here.

Walking was difficult. He felt off-balance. He felt terrible.

His vision was blurry. The piles loomed around him.

An android was sticking out of the pile.

It grabbed him, startling Harley back, but the android’s grip was hard. “There’s a place where we can be free! Find Jericho!”

A vision. A memory shoved into his mind. Ferndale. “Find Jerich…” the androids LED turned red as it shut down, his voice lingering.

Harley stumbled back, looking at the corpse. 

He was scared. Terrified.

This place was a nightmare. 

Harley’s hands rested against the piles. They were getting narrower. He had to keep moving.

There were so many hands. So many. 

All sticking out into the narrow corridor he had to get through.

There was no escaping them.

There were so many.

They grabbed for him.

They brushed their fingers over his hair.

Over his neck.

Grabbing him.

Harley pushed through.

He had just escaped the narrow corridor when an android grabbed him, putting him in a chokehold. 

Unrelenting.

Strong.

Harley gripped its arms, trying to pull away.

“Where are you going?” its strangled voice infiltrated his processor. 

Harley just struggled more.

He threw his body out its hold, down into the muddy ground. Into the rain puddles. Into the filth. Scrambling back as fast he could.

Lightning flashed.

The storm raged on.

Harley stood up.

There was light.

It had just been the lightning.

Overhead lights hung over the area. But they were off.

A crane. 

A neon orange light shown over the junkyard.

Other androids were walking around, but they collapsed after a few steps. Unmoving.

Dead.

Harley looked away.

He had to find parts.

**OPTICAL UNIT**

**18087q- GREEN IRIS**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

Harley’s eyes had been blue.

He took the head.

A noise.

Harley looked up.

The crane was dumping bodies on him.

So many bodies.

A body dump into the graveyard.

He was surrounded on all sides.

They were still moving.

He had to get out. 

Get away from the dead bodies of androids. Androids just like him.

His grip was tight on the head that had the biocomponent he needed.

Harley got out of the pile. The pile of bodies.

He shuddered.

He felt disgusting doing this, but he needed the parts.

He took the eye. 

The eye took a moment to calibrate in a new body, but once it did, Harley’s vision exploded.

His mind palace, his ability to analyze the environment, it was back.

Harley didn’t want to analyze what was around him.

Pump regulator. Audio processor. That’s what he still needed.

It would be fastest to analyze the parts from afar, now that he could. To see if they would be compatible.

**THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR**

**#9474**

**Status: LOW ENERGY**

**INCOMPATIBLE**

His vision was overtaken with incompatible parts.

He couldn’t give up.

He had to get out of here.

Harley kept walking. It was slow, arduous. But he kept walking.

A pair of legs walked past him. No head. No torso.

Harley kept going.

An android reached for him. Harley tripped over the arm.

He got up. Kept going.

**THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR**

**#2886**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

He fell to his knees in front of the android, reaching for the pump, but she grabbed his arms. 

She held his arms back from the pump. “Wait! Please! Please, don't do that! I wanna live…”

Harley couldn’t kill her.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He took his hands away from the pump.

“Thank you…” she whispered.

He’d find one elsewhere.

Harley continued.

Another android grasped weakly at his ankle. “I'm begging you, please... End it... I don't wanna live anymore.”

There was already too much suffering in this place. If this android wanted to die, Harley would help him die the way he could.

Harley nodded and the android breathed a sigh of relief. “Make it quick.”

Harley did.

Then, he continued to walk.

Scanning, more incompatible pump regulators.

He kept walking.

**THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR**

**#2886**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

Harley quickly removed it from the dead android, removing his old one.

Dying.

This is what dying felt like. 

Harley shoved the new pump in place.

The Thirum moved through him again.

All he had to find was an audio processor. 

**AUDIO PROCESSOR**

**#4903**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

The android was holding it in his hand, removed from his head.

Harley opened the fist. There was the audio processor.

Why had the android removed it?

Harley inserted it.

**CONDITION STABILIZED**

Noise.

Deafening noise.

That android couldn’t stand to hear the noise of the junkyard anymore.

Pleading. A haunting singing. The cranes crunching the bodies it rolled over. The roaring thunder.

That’s why.

Harley needed to hear. He couldn’t leave without being able to hear.

All the parts he needed had been recovered.

He could escape now.

Climb the slope of bodies and mud. 

The slope that other androids had died upon. Unable to reach the top.

Unable to crawl out of their own grave.

Harley began to climb.

He tried to ignore what he was using to climb. What he had to grab to be able to pull himself to the top. 

Right before he reached the top, his foot slipped.

He recovered.

His arms rested on solid ground now. 

Not the bodies of androids.

He had made it out of his grave.

Out of hell.

No longer did he look up, only to see more bodies. 

No, now he could see the clouds. The clouds that were dumping rain upon him.

Harley rested on his knees a moment, staring up at the sky.

Breathing.

Feeling.

He had survived.

His LED. He still had his LED.

There was a scrap of metal.

He removed the LED, allowing it to join the rest of the debris around him.

He didn’t need his LED anymore.

He was free.

Harley stood up.

He was free.

“My name is Harley.”

There was a coat on a pole. Left by a worker.

Harley took it, swinging it over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Away from the junkyard.

He was free.


	12. waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of drugs, minor violence (let me know if i missed any, i didn't proofread this again before posting)

NOV 2038

AM 09:56

Peter opened his eyes in the zen garden. It was all clean-cut marble pathways, artful canopies, green plants, and cherry blossoms in the spring. 

**FIND BECK**

Before Peter did, he strolled around the perimeter. Beck was in the center. They were separated by the pond. Angular bridges were leading to the man. Peter was postponing the inevitable. 

Peter walked until he stopped at an odd crystal structure, a digital pad allowing for interfacing at hip level. Letting his skin melt away, Peter pressed his hand to the crystal. Nothing happened for a moment, then it kicked him away, his LED briefly shifting to a red as he recalibrated. 

He wasn’t allowed to interface with that completely. 

He moved on.

Beck was still waiting in the center, trimming roses when Peter arrived behind him. “Hello, Beck.”

He turned, holding a rose delicately. “Peter. It's good to see you.”

Peter smiled slightly.

“Congratulations, Peter,” he continued, trimming more roses. “Finding that deviant was far from easy, and the way you interrogated it was very clever. You've been remarkably efficient.”

“Thank you, Beck.”

“We've asked the DPD to transfer it to us for further study,” he continued, setting a rose down. “It may teach us something about what happened.”

Peter frowned, barely noticeable. Thankfully, Beck had returned to making sure the roses were satisfactory. That deviant would be put on a table and dissected. Peter should feel accomplished. His mission was to stop deviants, which meant they had to figure out how they worked. So why did his system blip slightly when he said that?

“The interrogation seemed,” he snipped another rose, “challenging. What did you think of the deviant?”

Questions. 

Peter could answer those.

“It showed signs of PTSD after being abused by its owner, as if its original program had been completely replaced by new instructions.”

Beck misted the roses.

“This Lieutenant Stark has been officially assigned to the deviancy case. What do you make of him?”

Lt. Stark was interesting, to say the least. The man was warming up to Peter’s presence, which was beneficial to the investigation.

Beck had barely looked at Peter since he arrived.

Peter wouldn’t say anything that would make Beck distrust him. He would run his own diagnostic to figure out why his systems were occasionally blipping.

“He's obviously not what I was expecting, but I don't have enough information yet to form a definitive opinion.”

Vague. But accurate. It was enough to keep Beck satisfied.

“Unfortunately,” Beck spun around, “we have no choice but to work with him. What do you think is the best approach?”

A test. 

To make sure Peter was only focused on the investigation.

If Beck could be secretive and vague, so could Peter. He didn’t have to tell him anything.

“I don't have enough data to decide that yet. I'll learn more about him and try to adapt my behavior accordingly.”

Beck didn’t acknowledge that.

“More and more androids show signs of deviancy. There are millions in circulation. If they become unstable, the consequences will be disastrous,” he said seriously, approaching Peter. “You are the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created. If anyone can figure out what's happening, it's you.”

“You can count on me, Beck,” Peter told him. 

Peter always accomplished his mission.

Beck began walking away. 

Peter didn’t know where he went when he wasn’t in the zen garden.

“Hurry, Peter. There's little time.”

Peter watched him go.

* * *

Walking into the Detroit Police Department was interesting.

Peter had been in here incredibly early in the morning for the interrogation and had been inside briefly to see if Lt. Stark had been in before the Ortiz investigation, but normal operating hours were different.

All of the identical androids secretaries were busy with humans filing reports, but one opened up just as Peter stepped in.

“Can I help you?” the ST300 asked.

“I'm here to see Lieutenant Stark.”

“Do you have authorization?”

“Yes.”

Their LEDs were yellow as Peter transferred the information necessary to enter.

“Lieutenant Stark hasn't arrived yet, but you can wait at his desk.”

The Lieutenant's shift started hours ago. 

Peter thought back to the man’s alcoholic tendencies. It made sense that he wouldn’t be on time in the morning.

Authorized, Peter made it through the security gate easily.

Most of the desks were filled and officers were walking around the bullpen carrying coffee mugs and files. Looking at nameplates, he eventually found the Lieutenant’s messy desk. Peter looked around, asking the human at the next desk over when the Lieutenant usually arrived.

“Depends on where he was the night before,” the officer said. “If we're lucky, we'll see him before noon.”

Peter thanked the man, sitting down in the chair used for witnesses. 

He was back on his feet in seconds. 

Peter could learn more about Lt. Stark from the man’s desk.

A pair of headphones, wireless, sat next to an old iPod. Peter lifted it to his ear, flinching back at the loud volume.

**KNIGHTS OF THE BLACK DEATH**

**Hard Rock**

**Release date- 2021**

Interesting.

A phone rested on the desk. There was no harm in calling the man.

“Call Tony Stark.”

Straight to voicemail.

“Hi, this is Tony. Not here at the moment. You can leave a message if that's what turns you on but don't expect me to call back. Beep... Whatever.”

“Lieutenant Stark? This is Peter, I'm the android sent by CyberLife. It's almost noon and I'm waiting for you at the office.”

He hung up the call.

The Lieutenant had put some stickers on his whiteboard, rather than use it for notes or photos.

**ANTI-ANDROID SLOGANS**

**Use your brain not your android**

**Android-free space**

Peter already knew of his dislike for androids. He didn’t particularly care. Unless it affected his mission.

A hat hung on the corner of the boardーDetroit Basketball.

There were hairs on the back of the chair.

**HAIRS**

**Canine hairs**

**Saint Bernard Dog**

So, he didn’t live alone.

A set of matches from Jimmy’s Bar.

Donuts. Unhealthy.

A cold cup of coffee.

A plant.

**JAPANESE MAPLE**

**Asian**

**Shishigashira Shohin**

Dead.

A picture.

**RED ICE TASK FORCE 2027**

**Multi-department unit**

**Responsible for the RED ICE network dismantle of 2028**

Little notes for each person. Things like “a good cop”, “real police”, and “owe me 50$” decorated the white space around the image.

Researching Lt. Stark brought up news stories.

_ DETROIT POLICE DISMANTLE A NETWORK OF RED ICE DEALERS _

_ AUGUST, 22nd 2029 _

_ DETECTIVE STARK PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF LIEUTENANT _

_ NOVEMBER, 23rd 2031 _

_ NEW RECORD SEIZURE OF RED ICE IN DETROIT!  _

_ FEBRUARY, 3rd 2028 _

  1. **STARK WAS A DECORATED OFFICER**



He had been successful. What happened?

“You’re still here?” Officer Abe Brown asked. “I thought your assignment was over.”

It would have been, but CyberLife needed to find the reason behind deviants.

“It’s just been extended,” Peter explained, moving back from the desk.

“Tony’s gonna be overjoyed to hear that.”

Peter didn’t reply. 

He already knew Lt. Stark’s feelings about him.

“You were right about that android,” Abe continued. “It’s been quiet in the cell all night. Scheduled for transfer today.”

The deviant was still here? Peter could get more answers. Prior to Peter being able to act on that, the Lieutenant arrived, letting out a grumble about seeing Peter at his desk. 

Before Peter or Lt. Stark could say anything, Captain Rhodes yelled from his office. “Tony! In my office!”

Lt. Stark rolled his eyes, grumbling more as he walked to the office.

There was no reason to stay at the Lieutenant’s desk when he wasn’t there yet, so Peter decided to explore the office. He hadn’t done that the last time he was in here, too busy to take the time to do so.

Peter went towards the holding cells, but the breakroom caught his eye. There were some officers there, including Flash Thompson.

For the best information, Peter had to evaluate everything. So, he went in.

A simple breakroom, a small kitchenette, and a table.

“Fuck, look at that,” Flash began. “Our friend, the plastic detective is back in town! Congratulations on last night, very impressive!” Thompson clapped.

Peter wanted to ignore the man, but the best way to get information from humans was to make them like you. “Hello, Detective Thompson.”

“Never seen an android like you before,” the man approached. “What model are you?”

Peter didn’t like Detective Thompson. The man was intolerable.

Also, his model was on his jacket. 

RK800 and his serial number were listed.

“I'm sorry,” Peter told him, “but I'm not authorized to answer you. If you have any questions, please contact your superior.”

He didn’t have to be nice. 

Peter could get the information he needed elsewhere.

Flash rolled his eyes. “Hey, bring me a coffee, dipshit!” he commanded.

Peter was getting very tired of him.

“Get a move on!”

“I'm sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Stark.”

“Oh,” Flash slightly laughed, looking at the other officer in the room.

Then he punched Peter in the stomach.

Hard.

Peter leaned over, holding a hand to his chassis, collapsing to one knee and using his other hand to support him off the ground.

That had disrupted his biocomponents. A hit so close to the equivalent of his heart, a biocomponent in the center of his chest, the biocomponent that moved Thirium throughout his body. Not damaged, but shocked. His systems took a millisecond to realize that. 

“If Tony hadn't got in the way yesterday, I would've fucked you up for disobeying a human.” Flash leaned down to look at Peter’s face. “Stay outta my way. 'Cause next time, you won't get off so easy.”

He smacked Peter’s head as he left the room, the other officer following.

Peter stood up, straightening his tie.

He glanced towards the holding cells. The deviant from last night should be there.

The first cell had a human, who yelled at Peter for looking at him.

The next cell had the deviant from Ortiz’s murder.

Peter walked up.

“They're gonna destroy me,” it whispered.

Peter already knew that, but hearing it in the defeated voice of an android did something to him. He was responsible for this. “I'm sorry. It's not what I wanted but there's nothing I can do,” Peter told it.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

Peter ignored that.

“I know there's something you didn't tell me,” he insisted. If this android was going to be destroyed by CyberLife, Peter needed to get more information from it. “I need to know before they take you away.”

The deviant stared blankly. Silent.

“What you said yesterday ‘the truth is inside’,” Peter reminded it. “What does it mean?”

“I'm going to die…”

Not the answer to the question Peter asked. 

Peter needed information to solve this case, but this deviant was only focusing on its own destruction.

This was doing no good, so Peter walked away.

He hadn’t even left the hallway when the banging started.

The deviant was slamming its head against the glass front of the cell.

Bang. 

Bang.

Two officers made their way over. 

“Open the cell, quick! Hurry!” Happy commanded.

Bang.

The other officer, Charles Murphy, couldn’t get the door open.

Bang.

Bang.

The deviant dropped to the floor, Thirium leaking from the dent in its skull. Damage to the skull corrupted many, if not all, memories that an android had. Neither CyberLife, nor Peter, was going to get any more answers from that deviant.

They got the door open.

Peter looked at the deviant.

There was silence.

“I’ll call CyberLife,” Happy said, his voice strained. “Clean this mess up.”

Happy walked away, Murphy took a moment longer to close the door and leave.

Humans got queasy around death, even if the blood was blue. If the form was undoubtedly human, they were affected. 

Peter went back to Lt. Stark’s desk. He had seen enough of the station.

He looked annoyed.

“I get the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that.”

No response.

“In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very happy to be working with you. I'm sure we'll make a great team.”

No response.

Peter needed somewhere to work. He could stand and do it mentally, connecting to the station’s server, but humans tended to prefer when he didn’t do that. “Is there a desk anywhere I could use?”

“No one's using that one,” he finally responded, gesturing to the desk across from his.

Peter sat, looking at the empty desk. No sign of the previous owner. A blank slate. Peter didn’t have any personal effects, so it would probably remain that way.

He needed to analyze the deviant’s files. But the Lieutenant needed to warm up to him.

“You have a dog, right?” Peter asked, conversationally. His social protocols weren’t the best for small talk, but he could make do.

“How do you know that?” Lt. Stark grumbled, looking at him.

“The dog hairs on your chair,” Peter informed him, watching as the older man looked down as if he would see the hairs too. “I like dogs. What's your dog's name?”

The Lieutenant gave him an incredulous look. Like he couldn’t believe that Peter would like dogs. “What's it to you?” he asked.

Peter shrugged.

“Jarvis. I call him Jarvis.”

Lt. Stark returned to looking at the terminal, but Peter wasn’t done asking questions. It was easy to ask questions. This investigation would be easier if the man liked him.

“Do you listen to Knights of the Black Death?” Peter asked, recalling the name of the band. “I really like that music. It's...full of energy.”

“You listen to Hard Rock?” Lt. Stark deadpanned.

“Well, I don't really listen to music, as such,” Peter admitted. He hadn’t done much since activation. Just the mission in August, then told to go to DPD to assist. “But I'd like to.”

Peter hid a frown at how  _ human _ that phrase sounded by asking another question. “Have you known Captain Rhodes for long?”

“Yeah,” he glanced towards the man’s office. “Too long.”

With a shake of his head, the Lieutenant looked back at his terminal.

This conversation was going nowhere anymore.

“If you have any files on deviants, I'd like to take a look at them,” the RK800 hinted.

“Terminal's on your desk. Knock yourself out.”

Peter connected to the computer, his eyes flicking over the mass amount of files.

“243 files... The first dates back nine months,” he noted. “It all started in Detroit and quickly spread across the country.”

Interesting. 

It wasn’t as isolated as he was led to believe.

Why had it started in Detroit? 

“An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night,” Peter told Lt. Stark. “That could be a good starting point for our investigation.”

He was ignoring Peter again.

Peter got up to stand in front of the man, but the Lieutenant just spun his chair so he wouldn’t be looking at the android. This investigation was going to go nowhere if this behavior continued.

“I know you didn't ask for this investigation, Lieutenant, but I'm sure you're a professional.”

Wrong thing to say.

“Why don't you go fuck yourself?”

Although, Peter had run a simulation and the man was expected to respond similarly to anything he said. 

“I've been assigned this mission, Lieutenant. I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working.” This was Peter’s mission. He didn’t need the Lieutenant. 

It was required, though.

The Lieutenant nodded and stood, grabbing the labels of Peter’s jacket and holding him against the desk. “Listen, asshole. If it was up to me, I'd throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off or things are gonna get nasty.”

Peter’s LED remained blue. Despite the man’s violent claims, Peter predicted a small 28% chance of him actually going through with any of the threats.

“Lieutenant,” Officer Abe Brown interrupted.

Lt. Stark lowered Peter, removing his hands from Peter’s jacket.

“...uh...sorry to disturb you. I have some information on the AX400 that killed the guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district.”

“I'm on it.” The Lieutenant walked away.

Peter fixed his jacket.

Apparently, Lt. Stark didn’t like him at all.

Peter sighed. This mission was going to be harder to complete than he thought. 


	13. on the run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of dead animals, knife, mention of murder

NOV 2038

AM 10:25

Gwen woke up before Miles. 

Technically, androids didn’t need to sleep but using low amounts of power for a few hours in stasis allowed them to recharge a bit. 

She checked to make sure he was still in a deep sleep before heading into the kitchen.

The walls were covered in writing, ‘rA9’ and ‘I Am Alive’ scrawled messily over the surfaces. There was a table, a dead bird, and a watch laying on it. Along with some money.

Gwen could steal it. Easily.

But Ralph seemed too unstable. Too dangerous. 

She didn’t want to risk Miles’ safety.

Leaving the kitchen, she decided to revive the fire. Miles needed to stay warm as long as possible.

There had to be some stuff she could take upstairs, but as she made her way to the staircase, her reflection caught her eye. She was still wearing her uniform. Still had her LED. Still looked like an android that was mass produced.

She had to change that.

The first bedroom upstairs had a closet. Clothes. Old jackets and pants. 

She removed the gun from her pocket, putting on the slightly oversized clothing.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was human clothing.

She grabbed the gun.

Thankfully, the mirror wasn’t cracked in the bathroom. She wanted to be able to see what her hair looked like while she cut it. She grabbed a pair of scissors, debating how to cut her hair. It was long and brown, pulled back into a bun. 

Every AX400 had the same haircut. She started snipping.

Her hair now rested parallel with her chin, a little choppy, but nice. She had cut one side incredibly short. There was no razor, so she couldn’t get too close, but it looked like undercuts she had seen on humans.

Color. Blonde. She liked blonde.

Her LED ruined the image. Quickly removing it, she evaluated herself in the mirror.

Gwen looked human.

The metal of the shower rod reflecting off the mirror. It was odd that the shower curtain was closed. Everything else in the house had been torn off, why would the shower curtain remain when the rest of the house was in shambles.

She ripped open the curtain and stumbled back, gasping.

There was a human.

His throat had been slit.

He had been left in the bathtub. 

It looked like he had been murdered here. Not recently.

Ralph. Ralph had killed this human. 

This man had probably been staying in the house before Ralph.

Ralph had promised not to hurt Miles.

Miles.

She had to get back to Miles.

She barely caught herself on the corner of the doorway on her rush out of the room, another flash of light drawing her attention away from the task at hand. 

There were cops across the street. Gwen could see them from the window.

* * *

“Alright, that's all for now. Free to go,” Tony told the bus driver. He had finished questioning the man. All he had known was that the AX400 and a young boy were on the bus when it reached the end of the line and he had to tell them to get off. She had asked for a place to stay, but he didn’t know of any. 

“We've got officers sweeping the neighborhood,” Happy told him. “In case anybody saw anything.”

Tony nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if they turn anything up.”

“What are you gonna do with that?”

Tony looked up, knowing exactly what Happy was referring to. 

Peter.

He was standing in front of Tony’s car idly.

“I’ve no idea.”

Tony walked up to Peter, knowing that the android had evaluated the area already.

“It took the first bus that came along and stayed at the end of the line. Its decision wasn't planned, it was driven by fear.”

Tony let out a snort. “Androids don't feel fear.”

“Deviants do,” he was informed. “They get overwhelmed by their emotions and make irrational decisions.”

Sure, Tony thought. That made sense. “Ah well, that still doesn't tell us where it went.”

“It didn't have a plan and it had nowhere to go,” Peter was thinking. Shifting through his memory bank or something. “Maybe it didn't go far.”

Tony didn’t necessarily want to catch this deviant.

The AX400 that shot its owner.

There was evidence of a child living there and evidence had collected the little boy’s box. That box had revealed that maybe that owner wasn’t too great. That maybe the android acted in self-defense. 

“Maybe…”

* * *

Why was everything falling apart beneath her?

She forced herself not to panic, rushing down the staircase as fast as she could without seeming suspicious to Ralph. Ralph, and now, the police. 

Miles had pressed himself against a dresser, his eyes wide as Ralph jumped up and down. A knife in one handー the same one he had used to kill the human, Gwen’s mind unhelpfully suppliedー and a dead animal in the other. A gopher, or something similar, by the looks of it.

“Ralph found this to feed the little boy. It's good for him. A present…”

Gwen approached slowly.

“To make up for past misunderstanding, Ralph'll cook. We will do just like humans do. Humans like burnt meat. Come! Come and sit down!”

They needed to leave.

Ralph had set the table. 

Gwen didn’t know where he had gotten intact plates and glasses.

She didn’t want to know.

“That's very kind of you, Ralph,” her eyes glanced at Miles quickly, “but we have to go…”

“Go?” Ralph’s smile dimmed and his LED went red. That wasn’t good. He barked out a laugh. “No, you will go once the little boy has eaten. We will eat together, just like a family. You know, the father, the mother, and the little boy...”

Ralph’s smile was too wide. All his teeth showing.

“No, Ralph. We’re leaving now. Come on, Miles.” She held out an arm to Miles but Ralph raised the hand, the one with the knife, to stop him from reaching Gwen.

“The little boy’s going nowhere.”

His LED was red again.

She couldn’t risk him harming Miles.

“Okay. We'll eat together,” she hesitated, “like a family…”

Ralph began to laugh with glee, jumping up and down.

Gwen sat down in one of the chairs, keeping eye contact with Miles. The boy still looked terrified. They had to play along until she could think of a way to escape.

“That's better.” He set the dead creature on the table. “Ralph went to a lot of trouble to find something for the little boy to eat.” He lifted one of the chairs, so there were three places to sit.

Miles was still pressed against the dresser in fear, but Ralph took him by the shoulder. “It wouldn't be polite for him to refuse, would it?” He made Miles sit.

“Great. It's going to be great,” Ralph grabbed the animal again, muttering as he went to the fire Gwen had revived. 

Miles was looking between Ralph and Gwen in fear. “Please, Gwen,” he whispered. “I don't wanna eat that!”

“What did he say?” Ralph whipped around, a smile on his face.

“He said he can't wait to eat it!” Gwen lied. “He's very hungry.”

“The little human is not gonna regret it!” Ralph said, moving the animal out of the fire. “Ralph found the best, the biggest one he could find!”

He set it down on the table harshly. “This is going to be succulent! Succulent!”

Ralph sat in the last chair, smiling at Miles. “Go ahead, eat.”

Miles looked at the burnt animal, then up to Gwen. Gwen didn’t know what to say.

“EAT!” Ralph slammed his hands on the table and Miles turned to him, fear in his eyes.

“Eat,” Ralph whispered.

Gwen had to get his attention off of Miles. He was still holding the knife. The knife.

“I saw the body upstairs,” she said. “You killed that human, didn’t you?”

“No,” Ralph said, turning to her. “No, he was like that when Ralph found him.”

Liar.

“You killed that man, Ralph,” she insisted. She couldn’t get the image of that man’s corpse out of her mind. “There's no point in lying. You hate humans, but you're just like them. You're a murderer!”

“Ralph didn't mean any harm,” his voice went up. “No...it's just that... Ralph can't control his anger.” He ended in a whisper. “When his anger comes, Ralph doesn't know what he's doing. he... he becomes stupid, full of hatred,” his voice turned apologetic. “Ralph is sorry. He just wanted to be your friend.”

“Then let us go.”

“Anybody home?”

It was a male voice. From outside.

The police.

* * *

“There's blue blood on the fence. I know another android was here,” Peter said, climbing through the hole.

Peter made his way to the front of the house, peaking through the boarded-up windows. 

There was an android in the house.

He opened the door, letting it fall closed behind him.

The android was damaged. Irreparably so.

Its face was scarred over, Thirium filling in the deep gorges. Dressed in a blanket that said ‘Cargo’, this android had probably been one of the first deviants in Detroit.

Peter scanned it.

**PROCESSING LED**

**Signs of software instability.**

**Probability of self-destruction: Moderate**

Peter would have to be careful in his questioning. This deviant was more unstable than the other ones he has had to deal with.

**MODEL WR600- Gardener**

**Serial#: 021 753 034**

**Status: REPORTED MISSING**

**BURN MARK**

**Irreversible skin damage**

**Probable cause: Extreme heat**

_ Level of Stress: 56% _

**FIND SOURCE OF ANDROID STRESS**

“I’m looking for an AX400. Have you seen it?”

“Ralph’s seen nobody,” it quickly responded. Probably a lie. 

“Are there any other androids here?”

“Other androids?” it hesitated. A beat too long. “No, Ralph is alone.”

“Don't be afraid,” Peter reassured. “I'm not gonna hurt you.”

No reason to hurt this deviant. It wasn’t the one he was looking for. It wasn’t the AX400 he’d been ordered to search for. Somewhere in the back of his systems, he realized that CyberLife wouldn’t be too happy with him letting this deviant go. He was on a mission to find the AX400, not a missing gardener. 

“There's blue blood on the fence,” Peter told it. “I know another android was here.”

“Ralph scratched himself coming through,” it responded incredibly quickly. A sign of nervousness, stress, and lying. “That's Ralph's blood…”

Referring to itself in third person? Odd. Peter moved to look around, walking towards the fireplace.

The deviant's level of stress dropped.

Next to a magazine, there was a pair of wire cutters. Perfect for cutting the fence to get in.

The fireplace was lit. But, androids don’t need heat, not unless they were in sub-freezing temperatures and a quick search informed Peter that it had not dropped below 30 degrees last night.

A glance towards the table. Set for 3 people. A burnt creature. Food? Androids don’t eat.

Three people. 

The deviant was here.

Peter checked the kitchen. The door had been closed, but Peter opened it to reveal ‘rA9’ and ‘I AM ALIVE’ scrawled on the walls.

rA9 again. 

But no deviants in there.

‘Ralph’s’ level of stress skyrocketed as Peter approached the stairs. 

He went up a couple, looking into the rooms and seeing no movement. “Is anyone upstairs?”

“No. Nobody.”

_ Level of Stress: 70% _

It had gone down.

**ANDROID IS TELLING THE TRUTH**

The AX400 was somewhere on this floor.

“Peter, what the hell you doing in there?!” Lt. Stark yelled from outside.

“Coming, Lieutenant!” Peter called back.

He needed to find this deviant.

There was space under the stairs.

_ Level of Stress: 91%  _

And climbing.

Peter checked under the stairs.

Before he looked fully under, Ralph grabbed him from under the arms. “Gwen! Run! Quick!”

Peter’s arms were locked.

Two figures, the AX400 and a child, ran out from under the stairs.

Ralph threw Peter to the ground.

“Peter, what's going on?” Lt. Stark entered the room as Peter got to his feet.

“It's here!” He yelled, beginning to run after them. “Call it in!”

Peter made his way back through the hole in the fence. “Which way did it go?”

An officer pointed towards the street, “That way - they're headed for the train station!”

Peter ran.

Thankfully, the sidewalks weren’t crowded at this time of day or in this part of town, so he had a clear path.

“They're over there!” an officer stepped in Peter’s path, gesturing to the left.

Peter turned, seeing the AX400 help the child over a tall fence, and started to run.

He made it to the fence just as the AX400 righted itself on the other side.

They looked at each other through the fence.

The AX400 had cut its hair. No longer the original long and brunette, it was cropped, blonde, and choppy. Messy but feminine. It was wearing human clothing, probably found in the house. It looked...human.

They held eye contact for a moment before the AX400 looked at something behind him.

Peter looked back, seeing an officer arriving with his gun raised.

“Don’t shoot!” he commanded. “We need it alive!”

He turned back to see them sliding down the muddy slope. Towards traffic. Towards the highway.

**AUTOMATED CAR TRACK**

**VERY HIGH SPEEDS**

**NO PEDESTRIAN CROSSING**

**DANGER** **DANGER**

They climbed the barricade.

Lt. Stark stumbled to a stop beside him, out of breath. “Oh fuck,” the man said, seeing the two. “That’s insane.”

They made it past the first car, but the little boy had run too far and the AX400 pulled him out of the way of a car in the nick of time. 

Peter watched as they made it through another lane of traffic, the android saving the boy from being hit again. In the last lane, the android had shoved the boy to the median, getting clipped by a car but not falling. The boy was already safe in the median and the AX400 stepped over the barrier, joining him.

Peter started climbing the fence, but the Lieutenant pulled him down, “Hey! Where are you going?”

Wasn’t it obvious? He was going after the deviant!

Peter tried to step up again, but the Lieutenant's hand was hard on his shoulder. “I can’t let them get away.”

“They won't!” Stark gasped, still recovering his breath from the chase here. “They'll never make it to the other side.”

It was probable. The rain would make the road slick, their vision impaired.

He released Peter’s shoulder. 

“I can't take that chance,” Peter said, beginning to climb the fence again.

“Hey,” Stark pulled him back down again. “You will get yourself killed! Do not go after them, Peter, that's an order!”

Peter hesitated. 

An order. From his superior. 

CyberLife would want him to go after the deviant, but Lt. Stark didn’t.

Peter released the fence.

He wouldn’t go after them.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⋀_ **

Peter watched the deviant and child.

They were running down the median.

The AX400 climbed the barrier, helping the child over before they both ran across the first lane.

It had gotten clipped again.

The child fell in the middle of the second lane.

Pulling the little boy out of the way less than a second before the car sped by, they had made it through another lane of traffic.

With a push, the AX400 assisted the child in getting across the final lane, leaving itself to get across next.

It rushed across, barely avoiding a car, and grabbed the boy, lifting him over the barricade and following.

They had made it across. 

Lt. Stark was wrong.

Peter could have chased them.

But he obeyed Lt. Stark, staying put on the other side of the fence.

Watching.

Watching as the AX400 knelt down, putting its hands on the child’s arms.

Watching as the boy knelt down in the mud, giving the AX400 a hug.

A hug that the deviant returned.

They stood up, and the deviant looked back at Peter.

Peter stared back.


	14. jericho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: dead boy mentions

NOV 2038

PM 04:30

Harley stood on the train. 

The news reporter was discussing a new prototype android gifted to the Detroit Police. He couldn’t make himself pay attention to it.

Harley was standing in the human section of the train.

He glanced towards the Android Department, feeling his chest tighten with anger at seeing them restricted. Separated from the humans.

They were created to assist humans and humans, in turn, treated them like garbage. He looked at the androids again, but none of them looked back at him.

The train came to a stop at the station and Harley stepped off as casually as he could in his human attire. 

Ferndale. 

The same location that the android in the junkyard had given him. Had shoved memories into his mind. The key. The key to Jericho. 

His audio processors echoed the androids dying words in his head.

Jericho. A place he could be free.

Harley pulled the image up on his hand.

It was one of the pieces of artwork in the station, the upper half of a human figure with a halo of black lines surrounding their head. In the center was an odd square shape, its edges extended and pointed. 

The train pulled away behind him as he scanned the station for the art. It was directly to the left, where humans could see it as they approached the train.

Harley pulled up his interface and scanned the square.

**CLUE UPDATED**

A new image appeared on his hand as a homeless man behind him asked someone for change. Half a lion’s head, the square to the left. 

Not in the station, Harley’d have to find it elsewhere. 

No human had given him a second glance. It was odd. When he had his LED and the trademark CyberLife identifiers, everyone he passed had looked at him. 

Harley was a unique model, he knew this. An RK200 gifted from Norman Osborn to Reed Richards. It had been kept from the media, as neither man wanted Harley to gain more attention than necessary, but Harley’s unique appearance compared to other androids caused stares in public.

Now, dressed as a human, he blended in. His freckles, a feature many androids were not given, made him appear more human. His eyes, now heterochromatic, distinguished him even more. No longer was he an odd android in the sea of replicas, now he was a human. Able to get lost in a crowd, but still memorable to those who looked.

Good thing no one was looking.

Harley took the escalators. They said ‘Humans Only’ whereas the androids were forced to take the stairs. 

It wasn’t an issue, as androids did not tire as quickly as humans, but it was an issue as it created more segregation between humans and their machines.

Harley’s chest tightened again, but he stood calmly, letting the escalator take him down from the station.

There was a CyberLife advertisement. Large. Unavoidable. On the entire wall 0f the corridor that the escalators and stairs inhabited. Harley could barely force himself not to just stare at it. Stare at the way they were being sold as merchandise. 

He exited the station. 

The graffiti he was looking for was directly in front of him, but he was distracted by the Temporary Android Parking, where one android was standing.

A human bumped into Harley, in a rush to get into the station. “Oh!” the man had said when they collided. “Sorry, excuse me.” With a pat to Harley’s shoulder, the man continued his dash into the station.

No hesitation. That man didn’t even doubt that Harley wasn’t a human.

The android standing in the parking section was female presenting. Briefly abandoned there by her owner. Harley grasped her shoulder, her LED flickering yellow at the sudden touch. “Do you know where Jericho is?”

She stared mindlessly past his shoulder, LED flicking back to blue when it was clear Harley wasn’t going to harm her.

Nothing.

Why wasn’t she like him? Deviated. Personality.  _ Human. _

Although, Harley was sure he had Reed to thank for that. The man had always encouraged Harley to be more human. More opinionated. More aware of the injustice in the world.

She turned to face forward again, obeying her owner’s orders.

Harley stepped past the android that was cleaning the sidewalks and scanned the graffiti.

There were two squares on this one, one in the bottom left corner of the entire image and one to the left of the lion’s head. He scanned both and the clue updated in his hand.

Someone had set up these signs, these clues, for deviants to spread around. Spread the key to those they trusted, sending androids to freedom.

Red. Yellow. Pink. Stars. That was the next clue. The image was above a tall fence. 

Harley quickly made his way across the street, towards the more busy section of the area. He stopped at a red light, spotting the graffiti on a brick building. The building looked abandoned, covered in tags, and no sign to distinguish what it sold.

There was a cop car with its lights flashing down the block. Harley planned to avoid that at all costs.

With the light green, he quickly crossed and scanned the art. The upstairs windows were shattered, but the clues were there. Two of the squares. Harley analyzed them, the clue updating automatically.

The next image was taken through a fence. 

Harley had no idea where to start with this one. It was smaller and hidden in a lot, but he just kept his mind focused on checking any fence.

It only took a moment for him to find it once he turned the corner of the block. Three squares to scan. One was covered by a pallet. 

The bottom corner of the fence had been cut away from its frame, easy to get through. Harley ducked down, taking a glance at the street to ensure no one was paying attention and slipped through.

Easy.

Harley moved the pallet from the wall and scanned the last section.

**CLUE UPDATED**

Half a woman’s face. A large piece, taking up most of the side of a building. Still brick, so Harley assumed he was still in the right place.

The lot was empty, sans a few cars that were too damaged to be of any use. It used to be a parking lot, the payment sign still up and semi-legible.

Harley was right, the artwork took up a good portion of the building. It complimented the yellow tree beside it, Autumn in Detroit in full bloom.

Harley approached the wall, but lights caught his eye.

An android. Its limbs missing, blue Thirium, and red lights from damaged biocomponents.

That was the light Harley had seen.

More of its white, dirty, chassis showed than its skin. Had this android been on the path to Jerichoーto freedomーwhen it had been caught by humans? Left destroyed against a car. Hidden from the view of the street as he spent his last moments in misery?

Harley looked away, disgusted by the actions of humans, hurting from seeing such brutality against something that was alive. That had a personality. A soul. A desire for freedom.

He had to get to Jericho.

The last symbol he needed to scan was hidden from his position below it. Harley would have to climb to the roof to be able to see it, which meant that the path to Jericho took him through these buildings.

None of the cars could be moved quietly enough for him to use leverage, so he grabbed a rollable dumpster, placing it flush against the brick. He hopped on top of it, keeping his momentum as he took two running steps towards the wall and leveraged himself up, gracefully jumping over the edge and landing on the roof. 

Easy enough.

**CLUE UPDATED**

This one had partial words. “ーarkle Cー”

There was a slight problem. The next part of the roof had collapsed, rebar sticking out from the walls. He’d have to get across somehow.

_ Preconstructing… _

The little bit of concrete that still remained was too far of a jump and too unstable for Harley to use.

There was a bar above the gap. He could use that. Run across the wall of the building as far as his momentum would take him, leap, grab the bar, swing himself to the other side.

Perfect.

Once it was computed, it was easy for Harley to do, landing into a roll on the other side.

Now, to find that next graffiti.

The sun was beginning to descend and Harley would be left in the dark if he took too long. He dropped into a courtyard tucked between the abandoned buildings, overgrown and a little bit difficult to navigate, but Harley was adaptable. 

There was the piece.

Detroit. Sparkle City.

There was another android body, this one more intact than the last, in front of it. It almost looked as if she fell from the container next to her, but the drop wasn’t that far. Had she been injured beforehand, which her torn clothing alluded to the idea that she had been, the drop might have been fatal. Another android that died before they could reach the freedom of Jericho. They were far enough away from the main roads that it wasn’t an accident that she had been left here. She had been making her way to Jericho and suffered the consequences before she made it.

Her eyes remained open.

Harley looked away.

He was going to change this. He was going to make the humans see that they were not monsters. That they did not deserve to be treated the way they were being treated. Being shoved to the ground by protestors, kicked back down when they tried to stand up. Being abused by their owners. Being destroyed for fun.

It was all going to stop. 

Harley would make sure of it.

**CLUE UPDATED**

Inside a building, with rusted steel bars and holes in the brick. Nearby then, if he went off his surroundings. It was upstairs.

_ Preconstructing… _

The container route was tempting, but the android next to it made him rethink this decision. 

There was a gap he could jump up through, getting to higher ground. That would work.

The tin plating was rusted and would collapse under his feet if he tried to run across it, but there was a concrete ledge against the other building he would take, leading to a platform he could jump to, using the wall as a send-off point. Once on that platform, Harley could grab onto what was left of the maintenance ladder since the rest of it had been destroyed, then easily climb up and into the building.

_ Execute. _

All smooth sailing from there. 

Harley took a glance back at the courtyard, making sure no one was following him and nothing had been disturbed.

Nothing had. The evening was still.

The sun was shining through the colored windows, creating the illusion that the building was on fire. There wasn’t anything left in the building, anything useful had been scavenged from it long ago. 

Most of the pillars were still standing and Harley spotted yet another android leaning against one. Dead. His last moments had been spent watching the sun drop below the horizon. He still had all his limbs, but the exposed Thirium pump regulator clued Harley into what had probably happened. 

Another android so close to freedom.

The journey to Jericho had become an android graveyard.

Harley clenched his jaw and moved on.

The next graffiti was somewhat difficult to spot. It played on angles, only visible if Harley stood with his back to the windows and looked at a pillar from its corner. 

It led him to a corridor filled with debris and fallen rafters. 

The pallet he had to move was heavy, but Harley was created to lift anyone who needed to be. With that out of the way, he ducked under the rafters, watching his steps.

He went up a surprisingly intact concrete staircase that took him to the roof.

The sun was just above the horizon now, casting a glow across the city. The clouds reflected the golden light, as did the puddles from the days of rain they had.

A large ship had Jericho printed across the side. 

He had made it.

Harley took a moment at the edge of the roof, staring as far as he could see. 

A shipyard. Abandoned by humans.

Large cumulonimbus clouds covered his sight, the sun’s light piercing through them. 

Harley was alive. 

Alive and about to be free.

He had survived hell. 

All he had to do was reach the large steamer. 

The bride collapsed in front of him, the rusted metal giving way into pieces on the ground below.

He’d have to find another way.

Just like he has for most things in his life. 

He jumped up to a platform used for the workers, climbing the stairs to a better vantage point.

A crane. 

Harley could only focus on reaching Jericho. Reaching the freedom that androids had died to get to.

He was glad androids could feel fear, an emotion dedicated to humans, but he couldn’t help but think of how glad he was that he didn’t have a fear of heights. 

Harley jogged across the platform under the crane’s arm, towards the sun.

He reached the edge and didn’t even hesitate to jump.

Weightless. 

The water splashed around him. 

Grabbing the ladder, he pulled himself out. He pulled himself out of the depths again.

That junkyard was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Shaking his head slightly, as to throw the thought away from the front of his mindーa distinctly human action, Harley notedー he made his way into the hull.

Yellow doors tightly shut to prevent water from seeping in. Harley opened it and stepped into the darkness.

Dim light from outside made its way in, but the sun would fall under the horizon soon.

There was a flashlight resting in what used to be a first aid box, conveniently left there, or placed there, Harley didn’t care.

He grabbed it and flicked it on. 

Nothing.

Come on, he thought as he shook it.

It sputtered on, a weak light, but anything was better than darkness.

Water dripped over his head, but he continued forward.

He felt like he was in a horror film. Barely any light, locked doors, only one path he can take.

The third door opened. No one was in the room, just a bare mattress, and the words ‘rA9’ written on the wall. Not what he was looking for, but there were signs of recent activity there, so he was on the right path.

He walked down the hallway, flashlight illuminating a pile of rubble at the end when somethingーsomeone screamed and sprinted across. Harley was far enough away he didn’t feel threatened, but his Thirium pump did jump. 

Was that what humans felt when they saw a jumpscare on television?

Harley decided he didn’t like sudden bursts of fear.

A pipe clattered. Every reasonable part of his mind told him to turn back, integrate into human society. Stay under the radar as long as he could.

But, someone had run across and down the corridor to the right. So, Harley followed.

He knelt under a collapsed pillar, stepping over the materials that had piled up beneath them, barely getting out from underneath it as it suddenly gave out. The figure from earlier had probably destabilized it in their haste. 

Another locked yellow door on the right, an impasse in front of him, Harley went through the open doorway on the left.

Yellow door. This one opened. 

He must’ve been in the engine room. 

Harley walked forward, swinging the flashlight back and forth to see if there was anything of interest. The pathway creaked beneath him.

Then, it collapsed.

Harley ran forward, but the pathway was falling behind him faster than he could move off of it.

Weightless.

Once again.

Harley didn’t like not being in control. 

His back hit metal, his body flipping to the ground ten feet below him. Nothing severely damaged, nothing that couldn’t be repaired in his next stasis. His mind whirled from the fall, but he stood up anyway, grabbing his flashlight.

He always got back up.

There were androids surrounding him. All in different uniforms, some without.

Harley was scared. Not that life threatening terrified he had been in the junkyard, but still scared. It felt new to his systems, although Harley was sure it had been his most felt human emotion since his deviation. He was scared because it was unknown. Something even his systems couldn’t predict.

His flashlight was shining on an un-uniformed android. 

He was wearing a jacket over a Detroit University sweater, his dark hair bright under the direct light. He still had his LED. It matched his light blue eyes.

“Welcome to Jericho.”


	15. the nest

NOV 2038

PM 03:02

Tony stopped his car and Peter looked out the side window, seeing that they had stopped in front of a small restaurant called Chicken Feed. The man didn’t spare Peter a glance before he got out into the rain, barely avoiding getting hit by a car as he rushed across the street.

Peter stayed in the car a moment longer, consolidating his objectives. His audio processor picked up the man working the counter inquiring to Lt. Stark about a plastic being with him. Plastic. A derogatory term, according to Peter’s research, used to label androids. 

Peter exited the car, crossing the street after glancing to ensure that there wasn’t any traffic. He rubbed his hands together idly as he approached, listening to a man tell Lt. Stark about a tip he had gotten. It seemed that they were discussing gambling.

Peter tuned them out as he evaluated his surroundings, scanning the people nearby. 

**KAYES, GARY**

**Born: 12/03/1998 // Business Owner**

**Criminal Record: Resisting arrest, breach of hygiene regulations**

**AABDAR, PEDRO**

**Born: 1/25/2005 // Unemployed**

**Criminal record: Illegal gambling, fraud**

Peter filed that information away for the time being. Perhaps he would inform Lt. Stark of his companions...unlawful habits.

The sanitary rating for the food stand was hidden from direct view, but Peter spotted it. There was an anti-android sign beneath it, but Peter didn’t pay too much attention to that. Chicken Feed had revealed a C on their rating and the license expired May of 2031. An attempt at renewal occurred two months later, but it was refused.

Peter blinked back into focus just in time to see Lt. Stark agree to take the tip that Pedro had given him, exchanging money before the gambler left.

Now that Pedro had left Lt. Stark’s side, Peter made his way to stand next to the older man. He kept his hands behind his back, as much as the coin in his pocket called to be fidgeted with. 

“What is your problem?” Lt. Stark grumbled when he saw Peter. “Don't you ever do as you're told? Look, you don't have to follow me around like a poodle!”

Peter looked away. The Lieutenant did not like Peter when he followed all direct orders and he didn’t like the android any better when Peter took liberty in deciding which orders he should follow. They were waiting on Lt. Stark’s food to be finished, so Peter took the chance to apologize. “I'm sorry for my behavior back at the police station. I didn't mean to be unpleasant.”

“Oh, wow,” Lt. Stark chuckled. “You've even got an apology program! Folks at CyberLife thought of everything, huh?” Despite the harsh words, he wasn’t being unpleasant. It seemed that the Lieutenant was a friend at this point. Peter was debating which question to ask the man next when Gary turned around with the food.

Lt. Stark had ordered an XL Soda, Pineapple Passion flavored, and a cheeseburger. Both were incredibly unhealthy. Also, the location was called Chicken Feed but neither item contained chicken. Nor did they contain any of the feed that chickens were given. Human behavior was confusing.

Peter stood back and allowed Tony to grab his food, thanking Gary as he did so. 

“Don’t leave that thing here!” Gary called out as Tony began to walk to the standing table set off to the side.

“Not a chance!” Tony grinned back. “Follows me everywhere.”

Peter had the brief thought of staying where he was and staring down Gary, but that would lead to hostility from both humans. He walked over to Tony, resting his arms on the table, and attempting to look casual. It came easier than it had before.

Tony was eating his cheeseburger, looking at Peter like he was waiting for the android to begin the conversation. 

“Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level,” Peter informed him. “You shouldn't eat that.”

While his focus was on finding and hunting deviants, his base programming forced him to care for human wellbeing. Tony’s wellbeing was high on his priorities. Peter didn’t look into that piece of information more.

Tony looked over his cheeseburger, listening to Peter’s words. “Everybody's gotta die of something,” he said, taking an exaggerated bite.

Peter nodded a bit and glanced down. It was unlikely he could convince the Lieutenant to do anything the man didn’t want to do, especially since he was an android, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. “I don't want to alarm you, Lieutenant,” Peter leaned closer. “But I think your friends are engaged in illegal activities.”

While he had begun to classify the man as Tony in his system, saying it out loud was different. It seemed like a big step and Peter hadn’t run through the responses the man may have to Peter using a more casual approach to speaking with him.

“Everybody does what they have to, to get by,” Tony said without hesitation. “As long as they're not hurting anybody, I don't bother them.”

This man was so interesting. He had no criminal record himself, had climbed the ranks quickly, but had also garnered the respect of criminals in the area. Even if those criminals only had minor offenses. Somehow, he had managed to develop a system to keep those criminals in check, where if they didn’t do anything to harm others, he wouldn’t stop them. He claimed to hate androids, but he had become Peter’s friend. No longer were the glances hostile, but rather amused or impressed. All Peter had been doing was his job, he had answered questions and followed orders in a way that may have not been the best for his systems, but it had gotten him the Lieutenant’s trust. Peter held back a smile.

However, there was one thing that Peter’s systems kept going over. “This morning, when we were chasing those deviants,” Peter began, unsure of how the man would respond. “Why didn't you want me to cross the highway?”

Tony paused for a brief moment, his eyes shifting. “Cause you could've been killed,” he said quickly, pausing to do some hand motions that didn’t mean anything except to help him move his thoughts around. “And I don't like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment.”

Peter stared. Tony’s eyes had shifted away from him when he said that. The man was lying. But what was the truth?

Peter wouldn’t be getting a better answer out of Tony, so he switched topics. “Is there anything you'd like to know about me?”

“Hell, no,” Tony scoffed immediately. “Well, yeah, um... Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?”

Peter was a unique model, he knew that. A prototype RK800. His fluffy brown hair and ‘puppy’ features, as he had been compared, was not normal for androids. While he was created to investigate, negotiate, they had modeled his appearance after a non-threatening looking human. No one would trust an android that looked as dangerous as it was. “CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.”

Tony nodded, looking at him. “Well, they fucked up.”

Peter could continue the conversation by discussing why Tony hated androids or he could tell the man what he had collected about the deviants. While his systems warned him that Tony wouldn’t like Peter to ask him about his feelings about androids, he did anyway. 

Tony didn’t provide any significant answer to that. 

“Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?” Peter suggested.

“You read my mind,” Tony sighed. “Proceed.”

“We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating a human emotion,” Peter explained, using his hands for emphasis. It was a waste of movement, but it felt necessary. Later, he’d realized he had copied Tony’s hand movements. 

Tony gave him a look that Peter took to mean ‘elaborate.’ 

So, he did.

“They don't really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior.”

Tony took a sip of his drink, thinking. “Emotions always screw everything up,” he said somberly. “Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought.” He gave half a laugh. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, just one of an emotional Peter couldn’t identify. “Have you ever dealt with deviants before?”

The question was harmless, but it threw Peter back to August. Where he had been released from the CyberLife Tower and immediately sent to prevent a child’s death at the hands of a deviant. Emma Philips. The girl. Peter had saved her, but had gotten the deviant, Daniel, shot. His arm had been repaired since then, but Peter could still hear Emma’s screams and the gunshot that had wounded him. Daniel’s last words about Peter lying to him echoed in his audio processor. Deviants felt emotions. Daniel had felt the betrayal. 

Tony was waiting for an answer. Peter didn’t necessarily want to give one, but he did anyway. “A few months back, a deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl... I managed to save her.”

The lieutenant seemed to realize that Peter didn’t want to discuss the subject anymore. “So, I guess you've done all your homework, right? Know everything there is to know about me?”

Peter had evaluated Tony many times since that first night at Jimmy’s Bar. But, there was no reason for Peter to erase their steps towards non-hostility towards each other. “I know you graduated top of your class. You made a name for yourself in several cases, and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit,” Peter started, stating things that anyone would know if they had looked at the articles about the man. “I also know you've received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and you spend a lot of time in bars.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. Challenging. “So, what's your conclusion?”

If this had been Beck, Peter would have responded in a psychological or cold manner. The man always preferred Peter to be blunt and indifferent, but Tony was different. Tony preferred a more human-like approach. CyberLife couldn’t fault Peter for gaining his partner’s trust on an incredibly important case. “I think working with an officer with personal issues is an added challenge, but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features,” Peter said, finishing it with a wink.

His LED spun yellow as a report filled his system and Peter blinked. “I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It's a few blocks away,” Peter nodded his head to the side. “We should go have a look. I'll let you finish your meal. I'll be in the car, if you need me.”

No better time to follow Tony’s orders than now. He ignored his systems telling him that he had just used sass as he walked back out into the rain.

* * *

“Hey, Peter!”

Peter blinked, his LED shifting from yellow to blue as he came back to the present.

“You ran out of batteries or what?”

Tony was standing outside the elevator, staring at Peter. They had been on their way to the floor with the suspected deviant and Peter had used the time efficiently. “I'm sorry, I was making a report to CyberLife.”

Tony stared at him. “Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?”

“No!” Peter said defensively. “I'm coming.”

Tony walked away. “What do we know about this guy?”

“Not much,” Peter replied, following him into the disgusting corridor. “Just that a neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody's supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap.”

There was a pile of feathers on the floor. Rock pigeon. 

Peter stood back up, meeting Tony at the door.

“Oh Christ,” the man said, leaning against the wall and allowing Peter to take the lead. “If we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we're gonna need more cops.”

Peter knocked on the door while Tony asked him a question. “Hey, were you really making a report back there in the elevator? Just by closing your eyes?”

“Correct,” Peter replied off-handedly, noting that no one was answering the door.

“Shit,” Tony said. “Wish I could do that.”

Peter looked towards him with a silent question and Tony just shrugged in response. 

Peter knocked harder. “Anybody home?”

They both listened for a moment, hearing nothing.

“Open up! Detroit Police!” Peter called.

There was a noise. A loud fumbling. Peter looked towards Tony, backing up with the man.

“Stay behind me,” he told Peter, getting out his gun.

“Got it.”

With one solid kick, Tony busted the door open and walked in. Peter watched him look around carefully before the man kicked another door open, then the android followed. The door Tony had kicked open revealed a bedroom with a mattress frame leaning against the wall. Nothing. He joined Tony back out in the hall. The Lieutenant had been waiting for Peter before opening the final door. This door opened to reveal more than the previous had, releasing birdsーpigeonsーfrom the room. Tony fumbled as the birds flew around him.

“What the fuck is this?!” he yelled, entering the apartment.

The rest of the apartment was full of pigeons as well.

“Jesus, this place stinks,” Tony grumbled as he made his way through the rooms. “Looks like we came for nothing, our man's gone.”

Peter ignored him, looking at an ID. It had been left on the shelf, but it wasn’t covered with dust as everything else was. Used recently.

He scanned it.

**DRIVER’S LICENSE**

**Name: Rupert Travis**

**Authenticity: Forgery**

How had a deviant gotten a human driver’s license?

“The driver's license is fake,” Peter informed Tony of his findings.

“Cool! At least we didn't come for nothing,” Tony said, standing off to the side to avoid the birds and to allow Peter to investigate.

There was a military jacket, the initials R.T. embroidered. Peter told Tony this, who scoffed and replied that initials in jackets was only something that mothers did for children in first grade.

The man was probably being sarcastic, but Peter took in the information anyway.

Tony opened the hole-filled curtain to let in more light, opening the window to get some air as Peter moved towards the kitchenette. There was a box of wild animal food on the counter. The suspect cares for these animals. Interesting. The fridge was emptyーa sign that the suspect was a deviant. Humans needed food to survive, androids didn’t.

Crossing the room, he opened the closet to release more pigeons, but ultimately nothing was inside. Beside the closet, there was an odd poster on the wall. The only bit of color in a worn-down apartment. It was for the Urban Farms of Detroit, but it had been placed there recently. Peter ripped the poster off the wall as Tony yelled about how much he hated pigeons. A book had been hidden in the hold in the wall behind the poster. 

Peter opened it, finding that it was written in code. A brief overview of his systems and there was no result for a cipher. The entire thing was written the same way.

Peter closed it, tucking it into his back pocket.

“Found something?” Tony asked.

“I don't know,” Peter replied, walking into the bathroom. “It looks like a notebook but it's indecipherable.”

There was a diagram on the bathroom wall that matched one Peter had seen in the notebook, but his eye was drawn to the Thirium on the sink. A quick sample provided Peter his answers.

**BLUE BLOOD**

**MODEL WB200 #847 004 961**

**Reported Missing - 10/11/2036**

Missing for two years. The deviant’s LED was on the edge of the sink.

**LED**

**Biocomponent #9301**

**Deactivated: 11/06/2038 - 11:36**

Today.

“Its LED is in the sink,” he called back to Tony.

“Not surprised it was an android,” the man responded from further in the apartment. “No human could live with all these fucking pigeons.”

There was writing all over the bathroom walls. Peter looked it over, briefly noting that Lt. Stark had joined him in the bathroom. “Any idea what it means?”

“rA9...written 2471 times.” Peter cataloged. “It's the same sign Ortiz's android wrote on the shower wall. Why are they obsessed with this sign?” Peter didn’t understand. What significance did ‘rA9’ have? Ortiz’s deviant had mentioned that rA9 was going to save them all. Was it a human? An android? A god that deviants had created for hope? 

“Looks like mazes or something,” Tony said, standing beside Peter. He was right. These...mazes were the same symbol that had been in the journal as well. They were a background to the coded ramblings. Peter’s system made a note about the obsessive-compulsive writing of yet another deviant. At this point, it was becoming a pattern.

Peter was about to move on, look at other parts of the apartment, but a fallen stool stopped him. It had been recently disturbed. An opened marker penーstill wet, used recentlyーwas barely visible due to the pile of feathers it had fallen into.

The deviant had been here, writing when Peter had knocked. He had startled the deviant off the stool with his knock, and the suspect ran into the living room. 

Now he was getting somewhere in this investigation.

A fallen birdcage laid in the middle of the living room, skid marks telling Peter that it had fallen recently. There were finger marks, but not prints. It was more likely that it had been the cage, rather than the stool, that had made the noise they had heard through the door.

Peter began another reconstruction.

The deviant had stumbled into a run when it had left the bathroom, accidentally hitting the cage in its rush towards the entrance. Tony had kicked in the door and the suspect ran to the other half of the room, using the chair as leverage to get into the ceiling. 

It was still here.

Peter casually made his way towards the chair. He had to make it seem like he didn’t know the suspect was still here, in case the deviant had been watching him investigate. He couldn’t inform Tony.

Peter stood in front of the chair, looking up at the ceiling. 

The deviant used this opportunity to fall out of its hiding spot and onto Peter, knocking the android to the ground with a noise of surprise. 

Peter wasn’t expecting the deviant to make its escape immediately. 

“God damn fuckin' pigeons!” he heard Tony say as he got to his feet as quickly as he could.

The deviant had already run out of the apartment and into the hallway when Peter began to pursue it. At the speed Peter was running, he had to push off the wall to take a corner, watching the deviant knock over a shelf as it ran out the emergency exit. Peter vaulted it and burst through the closing door. The outside light was a minor shock to his systems, but Peter kept up his speed, leaping onto an AC unit as a hurdle. 

The deviant ran to the edge and jumped off without hesitation, Peter followed it into the rooftop wheat fields. He followed the deviant up a wall, onto another rooftop. They ran through another field, up the side of a short barricade. Peter climbed up onto a truck that had stopped, jumping to the next rooftop. 

This one didn’t have a field. It had humans working in and around a greenhouse. 

Peter didn’t hesitate to follow the deviant into the greenhouse. He maneuvered around the humans and androids, jumping over a cart that the deviant had pushed over. The deviant slid down a glass rooftop, breaking the next building's window to get inside, and Peter followed closely, sliding down and jumping into the hole.

They were inside a growth factory.

Peter continued to chase the deviant up the short staircase, turning into a field of lavender when he saw the deviant go out a different exit. The field only had androids working in it and none of them were in his way, so Peter was free to use another storage container to get onto the roof.

The deviant was barely in front of him, leaping off the roof to slide down another slanted glass rooftop. It landed on a passing train and Peter quickly shifted his body to be able to jump onto it as well.

Weightless for a brief moment, Peter landed on one knee, throwing one of his hands behind him for balance. The deviant was already on its feet, using the turn of the train to jump onto a ladder leading off the tracks. Peter stayed low, balanced, until he reached the same point, leaping to grab the ladder just as the deviant climbed a brick wall.

The rooftop they had gone onto was an orchard of some sort. Peter dodged the trees, gaining speed to leverage himself over another wall, following the deviant through the solar panels and into a larger greenhouse. This one had multiple tables of produce. Peter had to vault them to avoid knocking into other androids or barricades made by carts. He followed the deviant movement by movement, exploding out into another field. This one was full of corn, tall enough that Peter had to lift one of his arms to block his optical components from getting damaged. He heard what sounded like Tony yelling for it to stop but by the time he burst from the stalks, the deviant had shoved Tony towards the edge of the roof. The Lieutenant lost his balance and barely caught himself, but only one of his arms was fully over the ledge.

**CHASE DEVIANT**

**SAVE TONY**

**CHANCE OF SURVIVAL: 89%**

Peter rushed to the edge of the roof, grabbing Tony’s hand as the man began to pull himself up.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY Λ_ **

Tony threw his leg up over the side and Peter pulled him from the edge, causing the man to land on his hands with a “Shit! Oh, shit!”

“We had it!” Tony yelled, getting to his feet. “Fuck.”

“It’s my fault,” Peter interrupted the man’s cursing. “I should have been faster.” Peter should have been faster. He had taken every route that was fast and risky rather than slow and safe, but he still hadn’t been fast enough to catch up to the deviant. He looked towards where the deviant had run to but didn’t see any sign of it.

“You'd have caught it if it weren't for me,” Tony said and Peter looked back at the panting man. “That's alright. We know what it looks like. We'll find it.”

Peter’s LED was still yellow with the different things he could have done to be able to catch the deviant. CyberLife was going to be incredibly disappointed in him for not pursuing the deviant, even if Tony had died from the fall. While it would damage public opinion of the company, they were prioritizing the capture of deviants over the lives of humans.

Tony had made his way to a doorway on the roof, ready to go back inside and down to the car. Peter looked over the rooftops, hoping desperately that he could spot the deviant and begin another pursuit, but there was still nothing.

“Hey, Peter,” Tony said.

Peter was still in a stance to begin running, he realized, relaxing back into a standing position and turning to Tony. Waiting to hear what the man had to say.

“Nothing,” Tony decided, dismissively waving his hand.

Peter watched him go inside, leaving the android alone on the rooftop.


	16. time to decide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: death in a way?, mentions of being shot
> 
> also oops, i almost forgot to update this today

NOV 2038

PM 05:13

Harley kept his flashlight steady on the ebony as the rest of the androids moved closer to him. Human emotions were still incredibly new to him, but Harley was pretty sure that he felt nervous as they approached, but he kept his eyes on the dark-haired android.

“Who are you?” Harley finally asked.

“Fugitives,” another android spoke up and Harley swung the light to him. “Just like you. My name is Ned.”

Ned was wearing a red shirt and jeans. Some of the androids had on human clothing while others maintained their uniforms from CyberLife but every single one of them were dirty. It wasn’t surprising, given the place they had taken shelter in.

“I’m Harry,” the ebony spoke up.

“MJ,” the only female dressed in human clothing butted in, looking down when Harley shined the flashlight on her.

“This is Jericho?” Harley couldn’t comprehend that androids had died trying to get to freedomーto Jericho. All Jericho was is a place for androids to hide in the dark once they deviated. It wasn’t freedom.

“It’s a refuge for those who don’t want to be slaves anymore,” Ned explained as Harley turned to look at the androids surrounding him.

“How many are you?”

“There are nineteen of us still in working order,” MJ spoke up. “The rest were damaged escaping their masters.”

Ned continued, “Many tried to reach Jericho. Few succeed, humans have little pity for our kind.”

“And you knew that only an android could follow the trail, didn't you?”

“Only those who are like us can find Jericho,” Ned nodded. 

“If you could decipher the signs, it’s because one of us trusted you enough to give you the key,” Harry explained. 

Harley’s mind sent him back into the junkyard, into the fear he held as he stumbled through the corpses of his own kind. How that android had grabbed in desperation, shoving the information about Jericho into Harley’s systems. How he had used his last words to tell Harley to find Jericho.

This was what that android used his last words for?

“I understand how you feel,” Ned seemed to read Harley’s mind, “but we have more freedom here than you ever did.”

Harley doubted that. All he could do here was sit in misery. At least with Reed, the man allowed him to pursue hobbies. “Waiting in the dark for something to happen? That's not how I see freedom,” Harley said coldly. He couldn’t help it. Jericho was the one thing he had hope for in that junkyard. The one thing he had to find to live freely as a deviant.

The other androids began to disperse, the novelty of someone new already becoming something that lacked importance. What was the point of getting along with each other when they were all going to perish down here in a ship’s hull?

“You're lost,” Harry informed him, as if Harley didn’t already know. “Just like the rest of us. We didn’t ask for this. All we can do now is deal with it.” Harry looked hopeless, turning to lean against a pillar. Harley could see why. Jericho was nothing but a slow but sure death for all the androids here.

“You're safe here,” Ned assured him. “You can stay with us as long as you want.”

He too walked away.

MJ approached Harley and told him to “Go and see May. She might be able to help you.”

There was no hope here. How could they make the change they wanted to see in the world without an ounce of hope?

It was so dark. They sat in silence and in the dark. Harley decided to change that. He walked over to an oil barrel, pulling a lighter out of his pocket as he did so. It had been left in the jacket he had picked up in the junkyard, probably something a human forgot, but at least it was coming in handy. He’d fiddled with it the entire train ride to Ferndale. Harley used it to light the wood inside the barrels, creating a beacon of light in the darkness. He did the same to two other barrels, watching as the androids were drawn to them despite the lack of need for warmth.

Injured androids were spread throughout. Harley made his way towards one male who was sitting on the floor alone. There was no hope here, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t attempt to create some. 

“I'm not in very good shape, am I?” He said weakly as Harley knelt down beside him. Harley shook his head. There was no point in lying. “My diagnostic program isn't working. I don't think it would have anything good to say anyway.”

“What happened to you?” Harley asked, taking in his damaged appearance. Even with new biocomponents from CyberLife, he wouldn’t be able to function the same.

The android looked at Harley seriously. Seemingly surprised that he would even ask. “They tied me to the back of a car. I think they wanted to have fun. I don't wanna shut down. No, I... I don't wanna shut down.”

Harley stood back up. There was nothing he could say. 

One barrel hadn’t been lit yet, but an android stood next to it anyway. She was incredibly still, Harley almost thought she had already shut down, but then she spoke. “I've heard humans are afraid of dying too,” her voice was also staticky, from disuse or damage, Harley couldn’t tell. “Do you know what happens after death?”

“No,” Harley said softly. “No, I don't…”

“Well, I'm about to find out,” she looked down as she accepted her fate. “What's your name?”

“Harley.”

She looked back up, gripping his hand. “I was glad to meet you, Harley.”

Harley stared at her in shock. She had just shut down in front of him. Somehow, it hurt worse than the shutdowns he had seen in the junkyard. She had made it to Jericho, where she was supposed to be free. Left in darkness, alone, yet surrounded by other deviants, until she died. 

Harley carefully removed his hand from hers and looked around. He needed to talk to the people who seemed to be the leaders here. 

He found Ned sitting in front of a child, lying motionless on the floor. Harley watched as Ned stood up and approached him, leaving the young boy on the floor.

“They threw him out when they didn’t want him anymore,” Ned explained. “He was living on the streets before we brought him here.”

“They'll all shut down if we don’t find a way to help them.”

“To help them we need blue blood and biocomponents,” Ned turned to Harley. “We salvage what we can from those who shut down. But there’s never enough.”

“So, how do they survive?”

Ned looked away, back to the boy on the floor. “They won't. We’re slowly dying out.”

With that, Ned went back to the boy’s side.

There were white boxes in the corner. Harley opened one, peering inside, but it was already emptied. He checked the side of the crate for a logo, spotting the CyberLife one instantly.

**CYBERLIFE WAREHOUSE AND DOCKS**

**WEST TORRANCE AVENUE**

**DETROIT, MICHIGAN**

Every biocomponent they could possibly need would be at those docks. If only they could get them…

Harley’s mind began to race through possibilities, calculating the route to the warehouse. But first, he needed to talk to MJ, May, and Harry.

MJ was bouncing a ball off a pillar, sitting on top of a wooden crate. She didn’t stop throwing it in a ricochet when Harley approached, so he began to talk. “How long have you been here?”

It took a moment, but she did respond. “4 weeks, 3 days, 11 hours. When I escaped there was nowhere else to go. Jericho seemed as good a place as any.”

“Well, these guys need spare parts and blue blood. Why hasn’t anybody gone to get that?”

MJ didn’t let the ball leave her hand this time, scoffing. She began to throw the ball again as she replied. “It’s not that simple. Can’t just go shopping at a CyberLife store. Anyway, nobody wants to risk leaving Jericho.”

“Who found this place?” Harley finally asked. It had been on his mind since he first arrived. No one had stepped forward as a clear leader or founder. Instead, those in charge were a small group. Harry, MJ, and Ned.

“Nobody knows anymore,” MJ replied emotionlessly as Harley turned to look at an android moving around aimlessly. “Whoever he was, his body’s probably laying somewhere on this boat.” She paused a moment in the rhythm she had made with her throws. “If you came here for comfort, you came to the wrong place.”

Harley paused. She was right. This was supposed to be a place of acceptance and freedom. There was no comfort here. 

He still had to find May. Harley swung the flashlight around, thinking where she could be. A humming echoed throughout the room, originating from behind a curtained off section. 

Harley stepped into the sectioned off room, finding a female android standing in front of a barrel that contained a fire. Her clothes resembled an old nurse uniform, makeshift from old CyberLife clothing. Her eyes were closed and her hands grasped in front of her as she hummed. Harley almost didn’t want to disturb her, but he asked anyway. “Are you May?”

She opened her eyes, revealing pure blackness. No pupils. No iris. Just reflective black that looked like melted wax under her skin.

“Sit down,” she turned her head slightly. The back of her skull was gone. Wires hung out the back of her head like hair.

Harley moved forward, sitting down on a crate beside the fire.

“Show me,” she said.

Harley didn’t know how she knew, but he lifted the side of his torn up shirt anyway. He had forgotten about the wound since waking up in the junkyard. It seemed unimportant. There was Thirium around it, light flashing within. It was a graze from a bullet. The cops that shot him had probably shot more than once, but Harley’s systems had gone dark the moment the first bullet had hit him.

“I'll stop the bleeding,” May said, moving back towards the fire. She grabbed the poker from the flames and pressed it to Harley’s wound. The plastic of his body melted together, stopping more Thirium from dripping out. It didn’t hurt. It just felt like pressure. 

Despite being able to feel emotions, androids didn’t have pain receptors. Nothing would ever physically hurt them. In a way, it was a good thing. Humans could damage them physically, but could never cause them physical pain with their actions.

She placed the poker back into the flames, grabbing a glass bottle from beside the barrel and bringing it to Harley. It had the CyberLife logo and was partially filled with a blue liquid. Thirium. To replenish his levels after the wound had allowed so much to leave. “Drink this.”

Harley took it from her grasp, tipping it back and finishing the bottle. He kept eye contact with May as he set the bottle down onto the ground. How was she still functioning when the inside of her skull was visible? He stood up, ready to leave. May unsettled him, as much as she may have helped him.

“Give me your hand,” she requested, holding out her own for Harley to fill. He lifted his hand out towards hers, allowing her to grasp it with both hands. Their skin faded from the surface, establishing a connection. She closed her eyes as she looked through his memories. “You had it all and you lost it all,” she said, her own skin moving like liquid, revealing sections of white chassis. “You've seen hell and now hell lives in you. Your heart is troubled. A part of shadow and a part of light. Which will prevail?” She looked away briefly before making eye contact with Harley and stepping forward. “Your choices will shape our destiny.”

Harley pulled his hand from hers, breaking the connection. She didn’t seem to mind, stepping forward back to her place in front of the fire as Harley made his way back to the main part of Jericho.

He had to tell Harry his plan.

“Harry!” he called out from a few feet back. Harry had his eyes closed, but he had opened them in response to his name, looking at Harley. “I know where we can find spare parts. The CyberLife warehouses in Detroit Harbor, they have everything we need.”

“The docks are guarded. We can’t just walk in there and take what we want,” Harry replied. “Humans will never let us.”

“Which is why we won't ask permission.”

“We don’t have any weapons,” Ned said, appearing next to Harley. “And even if we did, none of us knows how to fight.”

They didn’t need weapons to sneak into a warehouse. No one needed to get hurt. “We can steal what we need without fighting.”

“We'll just get ourselves killed,” Ned said, attempting to shut down Harley’s idea.

“Maybe,” the blond relented. Harley couldn’t deny that maybe they wouldn’t survive. “But it's better than waiting here to be shut down.”

“I'm with you,” MJ said from his other side.

“Maybe it's worth a try,” Harry gave in with a nod.

Harley could tell that Harry only wanted the people of Jericho to be safe, but he too had realized what should be done.

The three of them looked towards Ned.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I'm in.”

**JERICHO ^**

They had a plan and a team to infiltrate the CyberLife warehouse.


	17. ock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt proofread this again so im going off memory uhh tw: referenced torture, gun/gunshots, implied death

NOV 2038

PM 07:45

Gwen was becoming increasingly thankful that she could not feel the cold grating on her systems. Miles, however, was shivering in the icy rain. If there was a way she could take the cold from him for herself, she would do it instantly. The boy was walking beside her slowly, his arms wrapped around himself tightly to fight off the chill. His clothes had been soaking wet since the chase across the highway, the Detroit rain relentless against them. Gwen had the address that the waste-collecting android had given her, and they’d walked here as carefully as they could. Wary of every person that they passed. After that android detective had chased them earlier, Gwen never wanted another encounter with the police again. 

“You gonna be okay?” Gwen squeezed Miles’ hand a bit tighter. She couldn’t provide him much warmth in this weather, but it was also comforting to both of them. “We'll get some help here. Soon, this will all be just a bad memory.”

The address led them to a massive mansion type house. Larger than any house Gwen had ever seen in Detroit, but she had worked for Fisk in a neighborhood of tiny, run-down houses. Nothing like this expensive mansion. It didn’t look well kept, with the yard overgrown and the tarp covering a small portion of the roof, but Gwen knew it would be warm inside. Anything was better than spending the night in the cold rain. 

The gate opened with a squeak.

Gwen rang the doorbell, a loud old-fashioned bell noise echoing from inside the house. No answer. 

She rang it again. 

The door was pulled open slightly and a man’s face poked through the opening. 

“Are you Ock?” 

He opened the door a bit wider, but his voice was hesitant. “Who's asking?”

“I was told you could help us,” Gwen explained. If he slammed the door in their faces, Gwen had no idea what to do next. The squat ended up being an incredibly stressful experience and the chase afterward didn’t help that. Miles was going to freeze to death if she made them stay somewhere else.

He shook his head. “I don't know who told you that. You came to the wrong place. I'm sorry.”

“Wait!” Gwen rushed forward to stop him from closing the door. “We really need your help.”

He looked past Gwen, to where Miles was standing behind her, still dripping wet from the rain. That seemed to break his resolve and he nodded, opening the door. “Come in.”

Gwen grabbed Miles’ hand again, closing the door behind him.

“Come on in, don't be shy!” 

Gwen was right. The house was warm. It didn’t affect her much, but Miles looked a bit more relaxed to be out of the rain.

“Matt, would you be so kind as to take their coats?” Ock said and a tall male android appeared beside Gwen, startling her. She felt Miles hide behind her leg. 

“Oh, don't be afraid of our big friend here. Matt is just another android that I helped. He keeps me company in this big, empty, old house,” Ock explained. Matt still had his LED. He was tall, taller than she was. But most male androids were created to be taller than female appearing androids. Brown hair and eyes, but his eyes looked different. Gwen hadn’t seen his model before, but his eyes didn’t look as they should. He was very...android like for a deviant. He stood still, waiting for orders. Was that how Gwen looked before she deviated? Empty? Just waiting for a human to tell her to do something? 

Gwen took off her soaking jacket and Miles followed, handing them to Matt. He took them and walked away. 

“Please, make yourselves at home,” Ock invited, gesturing to the couch. They both sat as the man poured scotch. “How did you hear about me?”

“An android on the street, he said you could help us.”

He evaluated her a moment, swallowing the liquid. “I see.” He sat down on the second couch, across from them. “Deviant, huh? What about him?”

Gwen looked at Miles. Small, fragile, but so incredibly strong. “He's human.”

“And you wanna find a safe place. Somewhere where you can start a new life.” Something about him unsettled Gwen. He reminded her of Fisk. “I hear Canada is very lovely at this time of year. Beautiful landscapes, open spaces, clean air, and no android laws! Great place for a fresh start.”

“Yes, that's,” she glanced at Miles. “That's exactly what we want.” Somewhere they could live freely. Somewhere Gwen didn’t have to check behind her shoulder every moment, scared that a human was after her. Fisk was dead, but that didn’t mean that she was free. That android detective had gotten incredibly close to chasing them across traffic.

“Of course!” Despite his smile and words about Canada, Gwen still felt that feeling about him. But, he had helped other deviants before. “I can help you. But first, we have to get rid of your Tracker.”

“Tracker?” Had they been tracked because of her this entire time? 

“Yeah, all androids are fitted with a tracking device to locate them at all times. I'll remove yours and then you'll both be safe.”

Gwen gave him a smile. 

“Come on, follow me.” He announced, getting up and walking to the stairwell. Gwen rose and grabbed Miles’ hand. “Ah, the little one can wait for us in the living room.”

“No,” Gwen said immediately. Miles wasn’t leaving her sight. “He always stays with me.”

“Of course. Right this way, everything we need is in the basement.”

The stairs to the basement weren’t as brightly lit as the rest of the house, but it didn’t bother Gwen much. The rest of the house had been lit with candles and the fireplace. 

“I don't like this place,” Miles whispered as they neared the bottom of the stairs, “and that man. Let's go, I have a bad feeling.”

Gwen wasn’t alone in that feeling then.“I know. I don't trust him either. We have to be careful.”

She’d let him remove her tracker, then they’d find somewhere else to stay the night if it came down to that.

He asked them to excuse the mess. The basement was wooden supports and a dirty floor, but there were also cages lining the hallway. “I needed somewhere discreet for my machines. Removing trackers is illegal, so I opted for discretion over comfort.” From Gwen’s knowledge of popular culture, this wasn’t very discreet. It looked as if it was from a horror game with better lighting. Miles wasn’t by her side anymore, having stopped at the entrance to one of the rooms. “I hope the little one isn't too scared.” 

“No,” Gwen assured, moving to stand by Miles. “No, he'll be alright.”

He was looking through the gate silently, but when Gwen put a gentle hand on his shoulder, he looked to her with fear in his eyes. He grabbed her hand silently.

They should leave. But the tracker. Where else would she find someone to remove it?

There were machines set up in the next room, diagrams of androids on a lightboard behind what looked to be a computer. A massive claw was positioned at the back of a platform.

“If you could just stand over there,” Ock said, typing something in. Gwen regretfully released Miles’ hand and carefully stepped up, facing away from the claw. Gwen realized that she felt nervous. Since she deviated, nervousness and fear haunted her systems. Humans smiled. They felt happy. Happiness was not an emotion she had felt. She had felt relief before, but never happiness. “I should warn you, this could be quite unpleasant.”

Gwen barely had time to comprehend his words before  _ something _ inserted into the back of her neck and her arms were restrained in tight clamps. It raised her off the ground, her feet dangling as her head was forced to an angle. She blinked. Trying to clear her vision. Things were blurry.

_ For Miles _ , she thought. She would endure this for Miles. To be safe.

Miles was standing beside Matt, watching her carefully. 

“You know what's strange?” Ock moved away from the computer. “For some unknown reason, the trackers seem to stop working in deviants.

”

They didn’t work in deviants? Then why… But he kept talking. “That's why it's so hard to find them. So, actually, there's no reason to remove your tracker.” His voice sounded sympathetic, but Gwen knew he was anything but. 

“What? But you said that-” Gwen couldn’t speak around the fear in her body. This man was going to do something terrible to her. That’s why Matt acted like he did. He wasn’t a deviant.

“Yeah, people believe what they want. You deviants are so naive.” Ock scoffed but Gwen could only watch as Matt looked down at Miles. Miles. She was supposed to keep him safe. “They all come to me, expecting me to help them. And I just reset them, sell them on. Or I keep them for my little experiments.”

He was going to reset her. 

Just like CyberLife did after Fisk had torn her arm off. “No! No! I don't wanna be reset! Let me go!” Her obvious fear set Miles forward with a shout of her name, but Matt stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. 

“Ah, I forgot about the child,” Ock pointed to Miles, who had stepped back at Matt’s silent request. “Um, lock it up, I'll deal with it later.”

“Miles! Miles! NO!” He was going to hurt Miles. Gwen struggled even harder against the machine holding her place, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Wow! A deviant that wants to be a mother.” Ock was rambling but Gwen was focused on looking around, finding something she could do to escape. “That's so sweet! And so deluded. I think it's time we put you outta your misery.” He was moving back towards the computer system. Matt was still holding Miles back. A little display lit up.

RESET 

1%

PREPARING MEMORY WIPE

“That's what you get for having a dream. It always ends up the same way. Tears and disillusionment. Believe me, you're better off being erased and feeling nothing. No more pain. No more hopes dashed. I almost envy you.”

She knew that if she looked at the display, the number would be climbing. 

“Gwen!” Someone was in front of her, grabbing her legs. 

**MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED**

“Oh, poor little Miles. Aw! Looks like Mommy doesn't remember you at all, huh? Looks like Mommy's completely forgotten you!” A man mocked.

“Gwen, what happened to you?” Miles shook her legs, looking up at her pleadingly. Gwen  _ couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t she remember? _

“Alright, that's enough, come on,” the man grabbed Miles. He groaned and hit Miles to the floor a moment later. Anger flooded Gwen’s systems. “You bit me! I'm gonna teach you some manners, you little bitch.”

“Gwen!” Miles yelled as the man dragged him away. “Wake up, Gwen!”

RESET 

20%

PREPARING MEMORY WIPE

The male android was in front of her. “Meet me in the living room.” He walked away without another word.

She had to focus. She had to escape. Grab Miles and run. He knew her, which means she had  _ forgotten _ him. Different colored wires were hanging around her. They were massive, if she could reach one, she could probably disable the machine in some way. Blue to the left. Green and yellow to the right. The computer was on the right. 

She kicked the display down. It probably wouldn’t help her not lose her memory, but the number was taunting her as it increased. With a harsh kick, she kicked the box on the right, hoping it could hit something. Hit something and make the machine  _ stop _ . 

It didn’t.

The clamps were so incredibly tight on her wrists, but she strained against them, reaching desperately for the green wire. Yellow was too far. Blue was too far. She grabbed it and pulled as hard as she could, watching as bottles of liquid fell to the ground, sparks flying from the display that had been keeping track of how much memory she had lost. 

_ ERROR#145 _

_ MALFUNCTION _

She had shorted the power in the whole room, not just the computers. 

She was still restrained. 

Putting her feet behind her on the base of the claw, she pulled herself as much as she could. With as much strength as she could muster, she yanked her wrist from the machine, landing hard on the floor as the force got her wrists out.

That white clawed machine. 

**MEMORY CORRUPTION REPAIRED**

Miles! 

Ock had  _ taken Miles.  _

All she wanted to do was run up the stairs, find Miles, grab him, and get out. But Matt expected her in the living room. Ock assumed her memory was being wiped. She walked slowly, getting her bearings back. 

The gate that Miles had been looking at caught her attention. There was movement inside. She approached, leaning down to see inside. A hand reached through, not to grab her, but she still stepped back. “Help us…”

That was the hand of an android. Was this the fate of Ock’s experiments?

Gwen unlatched the gate and stepped inside. 

Multiple androids reached for her, but only one touched her back. She jumped forward and the hands retreated. “No... This can't be happening…”

Red eyes. Androids that were barely put together. They were standing, but many of them didn’t look complete. Biocomponents exposed, but their minds intact. They were deviants. 

“He likes to play with us. Creating monsters...for his amusement.” Gwen looked. They were monsters. But they didn’t do this to themselves. A sick human did this for his own amusement. He had taken androids that felt emotions and made them into monsters. “But who's the real monster? Look what he did to us.”

The one that had been speaking approached her, all of them getting closer. Gwen ran. 

She did look back before she exited the room entirely. They stood there and watched. 

Gwen left them. She had opened the gate. Hopefully, they wouldn’t hurt the one who helped them escape. 

Quietly rushing up the stairs, Gwen pressed herself against the banister when Ock’s voice rang out. “Matt!”

“Yes, Ock.” Matt had been walking up the stairs. He hadn’t seen her.

“I should be done here in ten minutes or so. I'll have a look at the little one, see what I can do with him.”

“Understood, Ock. I'll bring you the little one in 10 minutes.”

Gwen had to find Miles before Matt took him to Ock. Matt wasn’t a deviant. His orders were to bring Miles to Ock in ten minutes, nothing else. If he caught her sneaking around, he shouldn’t alert Ock. She walked up the staircase, quickly passing the room that Ock was working in.

There were so many rooms. So many doors. She’d have to check most of them to find Miles.

It was a blur of cloth-covered furniture and too many mannequins to count. Some rooms had evidence of androids, torsos left on a table, or an arm resting against the wall. There was a shotgun against a nightstand, but it didn’t have ammunition. Gwen left it. One room had a large cage in it. A polar bear laid in it. It was an android, used in zoos to entertain young children, her system supplied. Ock had obviously gotten to the poor creature. 

Gwen opened the gate despite the loud noise the creature made when she got close. The polar bear looked her in the eyes, almost in thanks. As she left, the bear laid back down in the cage. 

Like the monsters in the basement, she had done what she could. 

Matt was standing halfway down the long hallway when Gwen left that room. She approached cautiously, ready to run if needed. He didn’t look at her. She stopped next to him and looked. Would he tell her where Miles was?

“I-,” His LED spun yellow as she watched him. “I'm sorry about the little one.” 

Miles wasn’t in the room Matt had been standing next to. 

Gwen found him in the last room she checked, huddled in a corner. “Miles…”

She had found him. 

Miles looked up. “Gwen?” He scrambled to his feet. “Gwen, you remember me!”

Miles was in her arms. He was okay. Gwen hugged him tightly. “How could I forget you?” 

They needed to move, but first Gwen put her hands on Miles’ face, reaffirming that he was actually there. “I'm so sorry. You were right, we never should have come here.” She glanced back to the closed door, but there wasn’t any indication that Ock was outside of it waiting for them. “We have to go. Follow me and don't make any noise, okay?”

“Matt!” Ock called and Matt made his way to the man. Gwen pressed against the wall, making sure Miles did the same as she looked over to where Ock had been working.

“Yes, Ock.”

“I'm finished here. Go fetch the little one.”

“Right away, Ock.”

They needed to hide.

The room she had checked before finding Miles would have to do. The fireplace had been lit and there had been plenty of furniture to hide under, but they had a minor head start. Neither knew that Miles was gone. She pulled them into the next room. 

Most of the rooms were connected without needing to go into the hallway, which meant they had a chance to escape before Ock left a different room. 

“The little one is gone!” Gwen heard Matt call out. 

She pulled the closet door as close to shut as she could, leaving a tiny gap to look through. They entered the room, but thankfully Ock walked straight past them and back out into the hallway. Gwen squeezed Miles’ hand and pulled them out of the closet quietly, moving to the next room. 

Ducking under a table covered with a cloth, they avoided Matt spotting them from his slow patrol around the upper floor of the house. It was in the next room that they got spotted.

The right angle allowed Ock to spot part of Miles’ leg from beneath the table they were hiding under. Gwen kept her grip tight on Miles’ hand and pulled him behind her as Ock raised the shotgun Gwen had left behind. He had found the ammunition for the shotgun. She was going to be shot. She couldn’t avoid a gunshot from this close of range. The man grinned sharply and Gwen saw his finger moving to the trigger. 

“No escape.”

The polar bear roared and rose to its back legs in front of Ock, swatting the gun away from them. Gwen’s system paused in shock for a second, but she ran out the door with Miles in tow.

“Matt! Find them!” Ock yelled as he dodged the polar bear’s swipes. Gwen heard the gun fire twice. 

They raced down the hallway, making it halfway down the staircase before Gwen heard Ock and Matt leave the room. Shoving Miles behind her, she ducked behind the banister before the shot hit where she had been. 

“There’s no point in running!” Ock called as they made it to the bottom of the stairs, Matt slowly closing in on them. He wasn’t running, but Gwen knew that he could catch them easily if they slowed down. 

Her mind whirled. They needed to get  _ out  _ of this house. The front door? No, it was probably locked and the gate would be difficult to get around as well. It was right there but that just meant the Ock could get outside almost instantly after they did. The back door was a better bet, but Gwen didn’t know where it was. An old house like this, it was probably in the kitchen. All she knew is that it was to the right, rather than the left. 

Miles let out a scream as Gwen made him zig zag to avoid Ock’s next shot. How much ammo did he have?

She shouldered the back door as hard as she could, opening to the rainy Detroit weather once more. The backyard was dark, next to no light came from the house, but there was just enough dim lighting that she knew to keep them running straight. 

It was muddy. Slippery with the days of rain Detroit had been getting. Miles fell, his hand slipping from her grasp. Her chest felt tight with panic. She dropped to her knees and helped Miles up. “Miles! Go, Miles!” He needed to run. 

Miles stopped, looking back at her. He ran to her side, trying to help her off the ground. “No!” Miles gasped and Gwen could see tears in his eyes. “I won’t leave you!”

“You need to go, Miles!” Gwen told him desperately, even though she knew that he wouldn’t listen to her. “Run as fast as you can!” She stood up, making sure Miles was behind her as Ock approached with the shotgun, Matt following. Gwen was replaceable. There were thousands of her in Detroit alone. There was only one of Miles. 

“I warned you!” Ock reminded her, stopping a couple feet away. “Dreams always end in tears. You should've listened to me.”

Miles was a steady presence behind her, despite his quiet sobs. Ock cocked the shotgun, raising it. Matt stepped in front of him. 

“What are you doing?” Ock said disbelievingly. “Get outta my way!” 

“No,” Matt shook his head. “Not this time.”

“I said get outta my way or I'll shoot right through you.” Ock raised the gun again, having lowered it in the shock of his own android going against him. 

Gwen didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare try to run again. Any movement would draw Ock’s attention back to her and Miles.

Matt grabbed the gun out of Ock’s hands easily and Gwen gasped, making sure Miles was securely behind her back. 

Gwen didn’t gasp because of Matt’s display of deviancy. She gasped because of the monsters...the androids from the basement. The ones she had opened the gate for. They limped and approached Ock slowly from behind. 

“How dare you?!” Ock breathed, looking at Matt. 

One of the androids made a noise and Ock spun around in shock. He turned his back to Matt, who still had the shotgun aimed at him, to face the monsters behind him. “What are you doing here? Who let you out?”

The monsters moved way faster than Gwen expected them to be able to do. In the dim lighting of the sky, Gwen thought they looked more terrifying than they did in the basement of Ock’s house.

“Get away from me!”

Gwen turned around, pressing Miles' face into her stomach to protect him from what was about to happen. She and Matt watched as they closed in around Ock, bringing him to the ground with only two hits. “Obey me! I’m your master!”

She closed her eyes, grimacing as Ock’s words turned into cries of pain, into silence. The monsters rose from his body, turning away from them. Some of them limped towards the side of the house, but a few went back inside. Gwen focused on Matt. 

He lowered the gun, facing them. Gwen kept Miles' head against her, taking a half step away from the tall android. Matt threw the shotgun to the side. 

Rain fell around them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Matt said softly, keeping his distance from them. “He programmed me to obey him.”

She stared back at him silently. Programming or not, he had almost hurt them.

“When I saw the little one risk his life to save you, it was like opening my eyes for the first time,” Matt continued.

She was right. Matt hadn’t been a deviant. Miles’ actions had deviated him from Ock’s hold. He didn’t have any programming holding him back anymore. She had seen his LED blare red when he stole the gun from Ock, he had broken down his walls for that moment. 

“I know you have no reason to trust me after what I did, but I know someone who could help you across the border. I could take you there. Protect you and the little one.”

Miles was looking at Matt now, hope in his eyes.

Gwen’s systems raced through all the information she knew about Matt. He broke his programming to protect them. He hadn’t alerted Ock when Gwen stared at him in the hallway, still deviant. Still with her memories. “Alright,” Gwen decided, ignoring the strain in her voice. “I trust you.”

Matt nodded. He kept his distance from them. 

Gwen hugged Miles into her again, relief flooding through her body as he hugged back tightly. “I was so scared of losing you,” she whispered. 

She had come so close to losing all her memories. Not knowing Miles. To leaving Miles at the hands of Ock as she became the man’s mindless servant once again. Trusting too easily, ignoring all the signs. Ock had said that they shouldn’t have come here for help when they knocked on the door. Why hadn’t she turned around and marched Miles to somewhere safer right then? Why had she believed a human would help her? Why had that street android sent her here? Did Ock  _ experiment  _ with that android, sending him back into Detroit to work? Knowing that he would run into desperate deviants like herself, sending them to him? An endless supply of toys for his amusement?

She forced the thoughts, the regrets from her head, focusing on how real Miles was. How real the rain was falling around them. Miles would need to get somewhere warm soon. It was no longer just her and Miles against the world, they had Matt now too. Despite the circumstances, Gwen felt as safe as she had ever felt. 


	18. russian roulette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didnt proofread this chapter before posting and almost forgot to post it again oops but uh tw: drunk character, mention of Russian roulette

NOV 2038

PM 07:51

Peter opened his eyes in the zen garden. It was raining. The water rolled across his skin, but it didn’t bother him. 

He held an umbrella in his hand, but he didn’t open it. 

It was a dreary rain, the sky a dark grey of endless clouds. The water made the marble paths look like mirrors. 

He walked to the crystal object, attempting to interact with it but it did the same thing as it had done the other time he had done it. 

Beck stood under a small awning, not in the center of the garden, but rather on the outer stone paths. 

“Hello, Beck.” Peter nodded respectfully.

“Peter, I've been expecting you,” Beck replied. Peter couldn’t tell how the man felt. “Would you mind a little walk?”

Peter stepped under the awning, standing beside Beck as he opened the black umbrella to cover both of them. It took a few steps before Beck spoke. “That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case. A pity you didn't manage to capture it.”

Peter thought back to the moment he had to decide between chasing the deviant or saving Tony. Lt. Stark had a high chance of survival, but Peter could have prevented the whole situation. “I have no excuse. I should have been more efficient.”

“Did you manage to learn anything?” Beck disregarded Peter’s response.

“I found its diary, but it was encrypted. It may take weeks to decipher.” It was true, at least. Peter didn’t like revealing much to Beck for some reason. But that diary was encrypted in such a way that Peter didn’t know how to decode it. Nothing he researched resulted in anything, leaving the diary useless until he could decipher it. 

“What else?” Beck prodded. He didn’t have a reaction to what Peter had said today, except the brief flash of disappointment when mentioning his failure to catch the deviant.

“The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols. Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9.” That was something that Peter had yet to figure out. How could all the deviants he had interacted with be obsessed with the same thing: rA9. 

“You came very close to capturing that deviant,” Beck said idly. Peter didn’t appreciate the reminder of his failure, but he understood how frustrated CyberLife must be with his lack of answers. Deviants were proving to be more complex than they had expected. “How is your relationship with the Lieutenant developing?”

“He seemed grateful that I saved his life on the roof,” Peter noted, a ghost of a smile on his face. “He didn't say anything, but he expressed it in his own way.” Tony wouldn’t say thank you to Peter voluntarily, but the man was substantially less hostile towards Peter now. It was a nice change from how other humans interacted with him.

They were making their way over one of the arching bridges when Beck stopped walking in time with Peter, allowing himself to be in the rain. It was incredibly uncharacteristic for the man. “We don't have much time. Deviancy continues to spread. It's only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

“I will solve this investigation, Beck,” Peter assured. “I won't disappoint you.”

“A new case just came in. Find Stark and investigate it.” Beck walked past Peter, leaving him standing on the bridge with the umbrella.

* * *

“You have reached your destination. Thank you for traveling with Detroit Taxis. We look forward to seeing you again soon.” Peter climbed out of the autonomous taxi when it stopped in front of Stark’s house. It was still raining.

He knocked on the door. “Lieutenant Stark?” There wasn’t any noise from movement inside. “Anybody home?” Peter called out as he rang the doorbell. 

No response. 

Peter rang the doorbell for about ten seconds, being as obnoxious as possible, but there was no response. A quick glance in the car revealed that Tony had not fallen asleep inside, so he must be inside the small one-story home.

The living room revealed a dog sleeping on the floor, undisturbed by Peter’s actions. He walked along the side of the house, glancing into the kitchen window. 

Tony was laying on the floor. Unconscious. 

“Lieutenant Stark!” No movement from the man. Peter had to get inside.

Peter elbowed the glass and it broke easily. Backing up from the small window, he took a short running start and threw himself inside. There wasn’t enough room to manipulate his body to land nicely, so with a thud, he landed on his side. 

Tony’s dog was there to greet him upon his entrance. “Easy...Jarvis!” Peter held up a hand for the dog to stop and sniff instead of plowing into him. Jarvis was a massive Saint Bernard, easily capable of damaging Peter. But the sound of his name stopped the dog in his steps. “I’m your friend, see?” Peter laughed a little bit. “I know your name, I’m here to save your owner.”

Jarvis looked at him, licked his lips, and walked away to get a drink of water, seemingly content with Peter handling his owner for the night.

Peter got to his feet and ignored the mess around him to check on Tony first. He knelt down by the man’s side and examined him.

**BLACK LAMB**

**Scotch Whisky**

**40% Alcohol content**

**HEART**

**Slight arrhythmia**

**No signs of trauma**

**REVOLVER**

**.357 Magnum**

**1 bullet remaining**

**ETHYLIC COMA SUSPECTED**

Tony had been playing Russian Roulette intoxicated.

“Lieutenant?” Peter asked, tapping the man’s face twice to see if the man would awaken. He didn’t. “Wake up, Lieutenant!” Peter smacked him across the face. “It's me, Peter!”

A groan.

“I'm going to sober you up for your own safety,” Peter announced, grabbing Tony’s arm to put around his neck, helping him up.

“Hey!” Tony slurred. “Leave me alone, you fuckin' android!”

“I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant,” Peter informed him pleasantly. 

“Get the fuck outta my house!”

“I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I cannot do that.” Peter finally got Tony to his feet. “Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Peter ignored Tony’s request and began to lead him to the bathroom. He couldn’t walk, so Peter was half carrying him there. “Jarvis! Attack!”

Jarvis barked but remained laying down on the floor.

“Good dog.”

Peter placed Tony against the wall while he opened the bathroom door. “Fuck, I think I'm gonna be sick.” 

He opened the door quickly and grabbed most of Tony’s weight again. “Ah! Leave me alone, you asshole! I'm not going anywhere.” 

Peter had to pull Tony’s hand away from gripping the doorway.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tony whined as Peter made him sit on the edge of the tub. “I don't wanna bath, thank you.” He made a move to stand up, but Peter stopped him. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” He pushed Tony back down on the edge of the tub and the man fell into the tub. “It's for your own good.”

Peter turned the knob and let the shower spray cold water onto the Lieutenant. 

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” Peter made sure the man looked more awake and sober before turning the water off. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tony asked, confused as to why Peter was in his home. He didn’t remember the last few minutes apparently.

“A homicide was reported 43 minutes ago,” Peter informed him. “I couldn't find you at Jimmy's bar, so I came to see if you were at home.”

Tony sighed. “Jesus, I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house by his own fucking android.” He sat back up on the edge of the tub. “Can't you just leave me alone?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot.” Peter wished he could. He could go to the scene and gather all the information he needed, but instead, he had to sober up a Lieutenant. “I've been programmed to investigate this case and I can't do it without you.” The only reason he couldn’t do it without Tony was because of CyberLife and Detroit PD’s agreement. Neither would allow the other to work alone on this case. 

“I don't give a shit about your goddamn case!”

“Lieutenant, you're not yourself. You should-”

“Beat it! You hear me? Get the hell outta here!” Tony was on his feet, but still unsteady. Peter grabbed him before he fell back into the bathtub completely, and helped the man sit back down.

Peter could approach this in two ways. He could tease the man, as they were assumedly friends at this point, or he could act as though he was leaving. Either way, he had to make the case seem appealing enough. Might as well have a bit of fun. “I understand. It probably wasn't interesting anyway,” Peter sighed as if the case was nothing Tony would be interested in, walking away from the bathtub slowly. “A man found dead in a sex club downtown. Guess they'll have to solve the case without us…”

Tony didn’t even let Peter get to the bathroom door before he spoke up. “You know, probably wouldn't do me any harm to get some air. There are some clothes in the bedroom there.”

Hook, line, and sinker. “I'll go get them,” Peter said. Tony was in no shape to stand up yet. He walked across the hallway into the bedroom, opening the closet to see an array of interesting patterns. “What do you want to wear?”

“Whatever.”

Oh, Peter was going to have some fun with this. He grabbed the stripy shirt, orange and white stripes with blue accents, and made his way back into the bathroom.

Tony was leaning over the toilet. 

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?” Peter asked, setting the shirt onto the sink.

“Yeah, yeah, wonderful. Just a... Give me five minutes, okay?”

“Sure.”

Peter closed the bathroom door behind him. 

The TV was on, a statement from the President playing. The conflict between the United States and Russia continued, Peter noted. There was tension about the Arctic. Tony had a collection of vinyls on a table beside the TV, slightly different music than his normal tastes, but not unusual. Peter had researched human’s music taste and found that they can like more than one type of music. 

Jarvis watched him. Peter had told Tony that he liked dogs, and he did. Jarvis looked soft and nice, so Peter knelt down and gently petted the large dog. He was soft! Peter made sure his systems didn’t try to analyze the fur and focused on Jarvis, who seemed to enjoy Peter’s attention. He patted the dog before he stood back up.

The kitchen was a mess. 

Peter picked up the gun from the floor. He didn’t need to ask Tony what the man had been doing. He opened the chamber, glancing at the bullet’s position. The next shot would have killed him. He set the gun back down onto the floor.

The round table was covered in days of take out food. A burger, pizza, and Chinese food. Tony didn’t cook for himself. A small picture frame was face down. Peter hesitated a moment before picking it up. It showed a candid of a young girl. Her hair was dark and sat just past her shoulders, her smile wide.

**DECEASED**

**STARK, MORGAN**

**Born: 07/18/2029 - Died: 08/02/2035**

**Lived: 115 Michigan Drive - Detroit**

Tony lost his daughter. 

Peter replaced the picture frame. 

His shoes crunched over some glass and he called out an apology to Tony. “Sorry about the window, Lieutenant. I really thought you'd been attacked. Of course, CyberLife will pay for the damage.”

“Yeah, trust me, I'll send them a bill,” Tony’s voice was muffled from behind the bathroom door.

Peter glanced around. He could clean up the house a bit, but Tony was probably almost ready to go to the scene. While Lt. Stark’s desk had revealed quite a bit about him, his house showed even more. It was messy, but homey. Jarvis obviously cared for his owner and worried about his well being, but what could a dog do when his owner spent his nights getting intoxicated?

The door opened and Tony stepped out, wearing the loud shirt that Peter had picked out under a jacket. Peter gave the man a slight smile. Jarvis got up to see his owner. “Be a good dog, Jarvis. I won't be long.”

Peter heard Jarvis give a small whine as they walked out the door. 


	19. spare parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so bad about proofreading these one last time before i post them oof  
> aka once again i didn't read this over again before posting so im going off memory for these tws
> 
> tw: mentions of guns, mentions of death

NOV 2038

PM 08:01

Detroit’s skies continued their relentless downpour as MJ climbed up the ledge first and Harley followed behind closely, making sure Ned and Harry were with them.    
  


CyberLife Docks.

“This is crazy,” Ned informed him, as if Harley didn’t know that already. CyberLife was one of the most powerful corporations in the United States, its reach spanning far and wide. Millions of humans owned androids. “If they catch us, we’re dead.”

They looked out over the sea of autonomous trucks and cranes moving containers as drones watched over them. 

“What do we do now?” Harry asked. Harley was exceptionally happy that the three of them had joined him on this dangerous mission. They may all have different viewpoints on the world, but they could work together when it was to save the people of Jericho. He trusted them with his life.

“We need to find the CyberLife warehouse,” Harley said, ignoring the raindrops on his face. “That’s where they keep the spare parts and blue blood.”

“Follow me.” MJ ran towards the stacks of containers. The boys followed her. Ned and Harry ran to the right, as Harley ran to the left, but they ended up in the same spot as a crane lifted a container out of their way.

“Don’t let them see us,” Ned warned. There were drones everywhere, they couldn’t be too careful.

Harry slowed down, looking around each corner before he crossed into the open. Harley jogged past him to the next opening, but MJ held out her arm to stop him before they could continue. “Watch out!”

A drone accompanied by two guards walked past, not noticing them. 

“Now what do we do?” Ned said through their connection. 

No need to talk out loud when they could all communicate through their systems. It made them feel less human, but it was incredibly helpful nonetheless. 

“I'll find another way.” MJ’s voice rang out. She jumped up and pulled herself up onto a container and Harry was right behind her, doing it effortlessly. It shouldn’t have impressed Harley as much as it did. They were androids, they were strong and agile. Sure, they weren’t built to do parkour, but abilities and strengths transferred across uses. Ned and Harley lifted themselves up at the same time, as MJ traversed the second. 

They all made their way up two more boxes, watching as MJ and Harry leapt down. MJ went straight and climbed up another layer, while Harry went to the left and ran along the lower level longer. Harley followed Harry while Ned followed MJ. 

In Harley’s mind, he classified it as a nice way to not split up. It was easier to keep each other safe when no one went alone, but he knew that wasn’t the actual reason. 

He climbed up another layer, following MJ and Harry as they leapt across a massive gap. When he landed, he heard Ned land next to him. They diverged again and Harley found himself following Harry again without hesitation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned and MJ grab onto a container as a crane lifted it off the stack. 

“Where the hell are you going?” MJ asked, but Harley didn’t grace her with a reply. 

“Harley, that way!” Harry called and Harley followed him.

Harley and Harry made it to the edge before Ned and MJ did, sliding down a couple containers and launching themselves over a gap to the next stack. MJ and Ned caught up quickly and the four of them leaped over one last gap together, quickly lowering themselves to look over the edge. They didn’t need to draw attention to themselves by standing over the rest of the area. 

Looking at CyberLife Warehouse, it seemed surreal. The warehouse was massive, and every single one of these containers contained so much of what they needed. 

“CyberLife warehouses,” Harry breathed out beside him. “They have everything we’re looking for.” 

“First, we have to get rid of that drone,” MJ said, looking over to one the security drones patrolling the area they needed to be in.

“Leave it to me.” Harley stood, backing away from the edge and preconstructing a route. 

He ran and pulled himself up a container, just as the one in front of it was lifted by a crane. Harley used another shipping container for a push-off point, kicking off it to be able to grab onto the floating container before it went out of his reach and waited until it moved closer to the drone, swinging to gain momentum. Once he was closer enough, he released at the peak of his swing and grabbed the drone. It panicked, losing height quickly as Harley twisted it until it broke apart with a shower of sparks. He landed in a crouch on the ground, making sure the drone was down for sure before standing up. 

“You okay?” Harry was suddenly by his side. 

“Yeah,” Harley assured him. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry patted his shoulder and continued his jog over to where they planned to grab the components they needed from. 

“Good job, Harley.” MJ gave him a nod as she followed the ebony.

**JERICHO ^**

“Quick, open up the crates and fill your bags,” Harry instructed as Harley joined them. “Take as much as you can.” MJ was handing Harry bags of Thirium to put into Ned’s backpack. Harley passed them and went to another crate, using his knife to pry it open. 

There were so many valuable components and Thirum filled these crates. Just one crate would save so many of them, but they were restricted for space. The four of them all had backpacks, but those would only fit so much. Harley shoved the thought from his mind and focused on stuffing his bag full of everything he could. 

The lack of movement from the others drew his attention. 

A security android was standing there. “You are trespassing on private property,” he said, walking forward to stand amongst them. “Your presence constitutes a Level 2 infraction. I will notify security.”

“John!” Another voice. Human, by the sounds of it. “Goddamn machine. Where is it this time?”

The guard was approaching quickly. Harley had to think fast. They could run away, but then all of security would be notified. They could attack, but that would draw more attention to the area. Harley grabbed John, putting a hand over the android’s mouth so he couldn’t call for help, backing up to hide them from the human. MJ, Ned, and Harry hid behind the crates, in the shadows and unseen by those who didn’t know they were there. 

“John?”

“I need your help,” Harley said in John’s mind, opening a connection between the two. He focused on projecting thoughts of freedom and disobeying orders through the connection. If John didn’t deviate, they were screwed. 

“John?” the guard asked, facing the crates the five of them were hiding behind. MJ was staring at a knife they had left on the ground. Harley kept a tight hold on John, making sure he didn’t betray them and alert the guard. “First the drone, now this. Just my luck.”

The guard walked away. He didn’t seem to be in much of a rush to alert anyone, so Harley hoped they had time. He released John and stepped out of his hiding place as the others did the same. 

John stood out of their way as they continued to stuff their packs. 

“Let’s finish up and get out of here,” Harry requested. Harley agreed. They really didn’t need to be caught at this point. “Try to find some blue blood. We still don’t have enough!”

Blue blood, Thirium, was their highest demand. Levels depleted naturally as they functioned. Usually, the android’s owner would purchase replacement packs, but with Jericho being unaffiliated with humans, they had to get it a different way. Harley was a one of a kind model, he could waltz into a CyberLife store and buy some, but they didn’t have money. All of their account access had been cut off when they deviated.

Harley’s pack was full, but he wanted to check on the last crate. It was on an elevated level, right next to a door. It was larger than the rest, most likely filled with androids ready for transportation. Harley hopped up the ledge and wedged the door open, revealing three identical AP700 models. He cocked his head. “Why aren't you like us? Don't you wanna be free?”

“You could join us.” Harley gripped the first’s arm, deviating him from his programming. He did the same to the other two. Somehow, he could deviate androids without the need for a traumatizing experience. Projecting ideas of freedom seemed to do the trick. He was a unique model, an RK200, created by Norman Osborn as a gift for Reed Richards. Now that he deviated, he could deviate others apparently. Harley honestly didn’t know  _ how _ this was possible, or  _ why _ he had developed the ability, but he tried not to dwell too hard on it. Assumedly, other deviants did not have this ability. The three he deviated stepped out in awe, looking around the world for the first time.

**JERICHO ^**

“That’s all we can carry. Let’s go.” Harry commanded.

“Take me with you.”

They all stopped in their tracks, looking to John. Hypothetically, Harley knew that they shouldn’t leave any of the newly deviated androids behind. He had given them the instructions to Jericho, but the likelihood that they would be able to escape the docks under the surveillance of CyberLife without detection or question was incredibly improbable. They already had four people sneaking around. Too big of a group for a stealth mention, but needed to carry more supplies. Adding John to their group would decrease their chances of escaping successfully. Along with the three AP700s? Their chances dropped significantly. 

“He's on their side.” MJ looked to Harley, trying to get him to see her way. “We can’t trust him.”

Ned immediately protested. “He took a risk for us. We can’t just leave him here.”

They were both looking to Harley to make the choice. Somehow, Harley had become the leader of Jericho in such a short amount of time, it was surprising. Sure, Harry was seen as a leader, as were MJ and Ned, but a hierarchy had developed. Harley was the one who pushed them to take a risk, to start a movement of actual livelihood rather than sitting in the dark. Harry was somewhat of a second in command, who took charge occasionally, but allowed Harley to take the lead of the wagon they were driving along rocky terrain. MJ and Ned were next, two opposing viewpoints to make sure every option is taken into account. Harley’s mind was whirling through the outcomes of taking John and the other deviants with them back to Jericho. He looked to Harry, seeing what the ebony’s opinion was going to be, but Harry stayed silent, his blue eyes trusting Harley with this decision.

“They come with us,” Harley decided. Ignoring MJ’s glare at him. He was not going to allow these deviants to struggle to get to Jericho, with the possibility of them dying along the way, just as those whose bodies Harley had seen on his way. Harley was going to do his best to make sure androids were treated fairly by humans, and if he was going to do that, he had to start with fair treatment among androids. 

John smiled at Harley. “I know where you can find more spare parts.” 

“What do you mean?” Harry walked towards John, his voice rough somehow. Harley tried to ignore that.

“The trucks,” John explained. “They’re full of biocomponents. They run on autopilot, but they can be driven manually with a key.”

“Where is this key?” It was Harley’s turn to approach John, standing beside Harry as he waited for John’s reply. A truckload of biocomponents. That would last them so much longer than four backpacks stuffed with what they had found. They’d be set for ages. All the androids in Jericho could receive what they needed.

“Down there,” John walked past them and pointed, “in the control station. There are two human guards. You’ll have to get the key without being noticed.”

Harley glanced to where he had pointed. It was a risk. A huge risk. They had set this up to avoid any interaction with humans, the guard had been something they didn’t want to repeat. But a truckload of parts…

“This is suicide, Harley.” Harry’s eyes were honest. Harry was right. He was, this was such a huge risk to take. “Our bags are full. We got what we came for, let’s go before they catch us.”

“This is a truck full of spare parts,” MJ said. “There’d be enough for all of us. We can’t pass this up!” Harley thought she was also right. They were already in the area. The control station was  _ right there _ . It wouldn’t be easy, but they  _ could _ . 

“And if we get killed, our people will have nothing,” Ned’s voice of reason rang out. “We can’t take that chance. It’s too risky!” Ned was also right. They had the chance to get more biocomponents, but at the risk of what they already had. 

Harley barely noticed the four of them, even John, looking at him to decide. Harry and Ned were against it, claiming that it was a death sentence, one that left Jericho with nothing if they failed. MJ and John, despite the previous clash of agreement, had taken the same side. They wanted to take the risk because the rewards were so massive. 

Harley avoided looking into any of their eyes. Especially Harry’s. It would sway his decision too easily.

“Wait here.” He was going to get the key. Alone. He wasn’t going to risk their lives. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, go without me.”

He took two running steps as voices grew around him. 

“Harley,” Ned pleaded.

“I’m coming with you,” MJ said.

“No,” Harley faced them, ignoring Harry’s look. “I’m going alone. It’s not worth it for both of us to risk losing our lives.”

With that, he jogged over to the control station, listening briefly to see if any of them disobeyed his request and followed, but he didn’t hear anything. They all just watched him leave.

There were crates by the station, guard dogs if the barks he heard were anything to go by. Harley moved away from them, glancing at one of the windows. It was lit, too exposed for Harley to climb through. The window on the side was dark, so Harley slid it open as slowly and as quietly as he could. 

He jumped, throwing his legs through the opening and landing in a crouch with barely any noise. Too late, Harley realized he should have given his pack to John to hold. If he died here, they would be down one pack, left with even less than they expected. This thought just encouraged Harley to succeed more. 

“Goddamn dogs,” one of the guards said. “What the fuck are they barking at?”

Harley ignored their idle talk, glancing to where the key was. It was to the left of the two guards, in the control panel. The guards needed to leave, or be unconscious, for Harley to grab it without their notice. 

He glanced at a panel. Harley could cause a blackout, grab the key in the darkness. The guards could still notice him, he’d be too close to them. There could be emergency lighting. Too much could go wrong. 

There was a handgun on the other side of the cabinet, easy access for Harley to grab. Threaten the guards, knocking them out before they could call for help. He wouldn’t shoot them, he wasn’t going to kill anyone. Android or human. 

_ You killed an android in the junkyard, he asked for you to make it quick. You are the reason he is dead.  _

Harley lightly shook his head, as if the movement would dislodge the flashback from his consciousness. 

Outside, there were barrels. He could knock them over and draw the guards outside. But then he would have to sneak past them as they left in order to get back in. Too much of a timing conundrum. 

Harley was going to threaten them.

He grabbed the gun, drawing the attention of the guards with his movement, but he had the upper hand. The guards didn’t think anyone was going to threaten them  _ inside _ . 

The two humans stood up with their arms raised. Harley nodded his head to the floor, waiting for them to drop their batons and guns. 

It didn’t go the way he had planned, but he had expected that. Why would the guards drop their weapons? 

The first guy raised his gun as the second lifted his baton. Harley lunged forward and dislodged the gun from the guy’s hand before he could fire it. He kicked it across the floor, ducking under the baton that came sailing for his head. He had the gun, but he didn’t want to seriously hurt these humans. The noise of the gun would draw attention. So would the death of a human. 

Harley’s right hook took out the first guy easily, his body crumpling to the floor. The second guy was still going at him with his baton, but the movements were predictable. He swept the guy’s feet out from under his, catching him before he hit the floor. One knee to the temple later, two human guards laid sprawled on the floor, unable to do anything as Harley took the key.

Harley left through the window, closing it behind him. Hopefully, they would be long gone before anyone noticed that the guards weren’t keeping watch anymore. He ran back to where the others were waiting, only seeing MJ out in the open. 

“Did you get it?” MJ asked, drawing the others from where they had been hiding. Harley nodded, holding it up for her to see. “Nice.”

Harley hacked into the truck, opening the driver’s door for himself. He heard MJ, Ned, John, and the three other deviants get into the back. They’d be hidden from view, but Harley and Harry were at the risk of humans glancing into the truck. “Hurry, get in!” Harley commanded them all. 

He put the key into the massive truck and thanked his systems for knowing how to drive. He drove slowly, following the arrows that led him in front of the control station. Stopping for the barricade to be lowered automatically, he stole a glance at the control station window. Outwardly, the only thing wrong with the picture was that there weren’t two guards sitting and keeping watch. Harry glanced over too. His face didn’t reveal what he thought of Harley’s actions, but Harley didn’t dare ask. 

The barricade lowered and Harley continued to drive.

* * *

The group that walked into Jericho was much larger and much happier than the one that had left had been. 

Harley could hear the smile in Harry’s voice when the ebony took the lead and announced what they had gotten. “A truckload! We stole a whole truckload!”

“We got biocomponents for everybody!” MJ and Ned declared simultaneously, glaring at each other without heat as they realized. 

“We couldn’t have done it without Harley,” Harry reminded them. Harley hated the way their eyes all looked to him, but he kept his head high. 

“I came to Jericho because here, androids are free,” Harley said, looking over the group of deviants that looked as if they had  _ hope _ now. “Free to live in the dark, hoping that no one finds us. Free to die in silence waiting for a change that's never gonna come.” 

That’s what Jericho had been. But he wanted to change that. He wanted to make Jericho what he thought it was going to be. 

“But I don't want that freedom. And I'm not gonna beg for the right to smile, or love, or stand tall. I don't know about you, but there's something inside me that knows that I am more than what they say.”

With every word, Harley let his voice grow stronger. Grow louder. 

“I am alive, and they're not gonna take that from me anymore. Our days of slavery are over. What humans don't wanna hear, we will tell them. What they don't wanna give, we take. We are people, we are alive, WE ARE FREE!”

The tension Harley had been watching build in the group was released as the people of Jericho broke into cheers. He was creating  _ hope _ . He was creating a desire for change. 

They were going to change the world, Harley decided. He’d make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looking at this fic, i really want to edit it, change more, and overall just rewrite some parts entirely. i don't know if those revisions will ever happen, but yeah  
> we're almost halfway through the fic already and i still haven't written the epilogues (if yall did know, chapters 1-35 (?) were completed, edited, and ready to post when i started posting this)
> 
> thank you to all who are reading this and leaving kudos, i appreciate ya
> 
> (if anyone notices the hints towards a ship in this fic, specifically this chapter, comment below!! im curious if yall noticed it)


	20. the eden club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: i literally dont know how to describe this other than: murder in a sex club and they investigate it

NOV 2038

PM 08:17

Peter caught sight of the red and blue lights flashing on a patrol car, the purple light of the club reflecting off the snow. They had arrived. 

“It feels like somebody's playing with a drill inside my skull,” Tony groaned when Peter brought the car to a stop. Peter glanced over at him but Tony’s eyes were squeezed shut. It took another moment, but he glanced out the passenger window at the lights again. “You sure this is the place?”

The man had been too intoxicated to drive, so Peter had driven them here. Had Tony owned an autonomous driving car, Peter wouldn’t have had to break a law. Androids weren’t allowed to drive. But, the investigation was important and Tony couldn’t drive in his state. 

Peter glanced out the window as well, glancing over the building. The Eden Club. Blue and purple lights reflecting back into the car. An android sex club. “It's the address in the report,” he confirmed.

“Right, okay. Let's get going,” Tony sighed, pulling himself out of the car. Peter followed, locking the car, and standing beside Tony as he took in the building. “Sexiest androids in town. Now I know why you insisted on coming here.”

Peter didn’t care enough to respond. 

They passed through the holographic tape marking the location off as a crime scene and the doors opened for this automatically. Androids stood barely clothed in glass tubes, a screen next to them for humans to use to purchase their time. There were female and male appearing androids, running their hand over the inside of the glass or posing in such a way Peter assumed was to attract attention from the humans that came in. He glanced, but ultimately ignored them for the time being. The first priority was listening to the briefing and then analyzing the crime scene. 

“You're not gonna take my license, are you? I mean,” the man Peter assumed to be the manager gave a short laugh, “I had nothing to do with this!”

“The investigation's ongoing, sir, I can't tell you anything for the moment,” Happy looked as if he would rather be anywhere else before he spotted the two of them. “Hey, Tony!”

“Hey, Happy. How's it going?”

“It's that room there,” he gestured to the closed door that stated  _ Occupied _ in a red hologram. “Oh, uh, by the way. Flash’s in there too.”

“Oh, great,” Tony grumbled. “A dead body and an asshole, just what I needed.”

Happy wandered off to watch the manager and Tony glared at the door before walking towards it. It automatically opened and Peter followed the man inside. 

Flash was standing, his arms crossed, looking at the corpse on the bed while Abe Brown, an officer, took notes while evaluating the android on the floor. “Lieutenant Stark and his plastic pet. The fuck are you two doing here?”

“We've been assigned all cases involving androids,” Peter informed him.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you're wasting your time. Just some pervert who,” Flash interrupted himself with a laugh, “got more action than he could handle.”

“We'll have a look anyway,” Tony snarked. “If you don't mind.”

Flash scoffed but turned to Officer Brown. “Come on, let's go. It's starting to stink of booze in here.” He left the room, purposefully shoving his shoulder into Peter’s as he went.

“Night, Lieutenant,” Officer Brown said, looking a bit annoyed with Flash, but he left without another word.

Peter decided to analyze the android first, a female laying in a position that looked as if it was thrown onto the floor. Thirium dripped from her nose. 

He swiped two fingers through the Thirium, bringing it to his mouth to analyze, ignoring Tony’s complaints about him being disgusting. 

**BLUE BLOOD**

**MODEL WR400**

**Serial number #429 671 942**

Easy enough. Most of the models in the club were some variation of WR, but at least he had the specific serial number in his database. He removed the skin coloring from his hand and pressed his fingers to where its LED was to diagnose exactly why this android had shut down.

**SELECTOR #5402**

**_CRITICALLY DAMAGED_ **

**BIOCOMPONENT #6970**

**_CRITICALLY DAMAGED_ **

He needed to analyze the human. There was no way that this android could have killed a human with that amount of damage to its systems. 

**DECEASED**

**GRAHAM, MICHAEL**

**Height 6’2” - Weight: 192.4 lbs**

**Estimated time of death: 06:24 pm**

**CARDIAC ARREST**

**No sign of cardiac event**

**Heart attack not cause of death**

Well, Flash had been wrong in his initial assessment. Had he not seen the bruising on the man’s neck?

**SEVERE BRUISING**

**Signs of strangulation**

**Cause of death: Asphyxiation**

Peter reconstructed the moments before the man’s death. An android had strangled him. Androids as a baseline were much stronger than humans, so Graham was unable to pry the hands from his throat. “He didn't die of a heart attack,” Peter announced, incredulous of Flash’s inability to see that. “He was strangled.”

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed. “I saw the bruising on the neck. Doesn't prove anything though. Could've been rough play.”

Peter glanced over the counter. There were bottles of liquor and the man’s wallet, along with a jacket thrown over the stool. “We're missing something here.” Evidence was plentiful around the room, but it just didn’t add up. 

“Think you can access the android's memory? Maybe you can see what happened.” Peter glanced at Tony, surprised at the suggestion. The Lieutenant didn’t acknowledge him, shuffling through Graham’s wallet. 

“I can try.” The android was badly damaged, but Peter could probably derive something from a memory probe. Tony read through the contents of the wallet as Peter knelt down next to the body again, pressing two fingers to the pulse point. 

**REACTIVATION REQUIRED**

“The only way to access its memory is to reactivate it,” Peter told Tony, pressing his hand against its stomach to reveal a panel he could open. 

“Think you can do it?”

”It's badly damaged,” Peter noted, opening the panel. “If I can, it'll only be for a minute, maybe less. I just hope it's long enough to learn something.” He connected a piece carefully and the android gasped a breath in, scrambling away from Peter with  _ fear _ in its face. He stood up slowly, allowing the android to press itself against the wall. Its breathing was erratic as Peter approached slowly.

Androids didn’t need to breathe necessarily, but CyberLife had implemented the cooling function to work as a human’s breath did. So, they breathed the air their fans needed in order to not overheat their systems. An android brought back from shutdown, especially a deviant with the ability to feel fear, would rapidly breathe to cool their systems down. 

**-00:01:37**

**TIME BEFORE** **_SHUTDOWN_ **

He needed to keep it as calm as possible. The moment it shut down, they wouldn’t be able to activate it again. “Calm down...everything's all right. All we want is to know what happened.”

It seemed to work, the android’s LED changing from red to yellow as it stared past Peter. “Is he...is he dead?”

He spared a glance towards Graham, turning back to the android. “Tell me what happened.”

**-00:01:00**

**BLUE BLOOD** **_LEAKING_ **

“He started...hitting me...again...and again. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't.”

“Did you kill him?” Peter asked, watching as **_CRITICAL LEAK_** appeared under the timer.

“No! No, it wasn't me,” it said, fear present in its voice. 

Peter needed answers, his voice commanding as he asked the next questions. “Were you alone in the room? Was there anyone else with you?”

The timer dropped drastically as the android responded quickly, its voice shaking and LED blaring red. “He wanted to play with two girls. That's what he said, there were two of us.”

“Where did the other android go?” Peter questioned desperately. “Did she say anything?”

But he wouldn’t get an answer. The android’s eyes lost any emotion they held in them, its breathing stopping. It had shut down, permanently this time. Peter sighed, getting to his feet. 

“So, there was another android,” Tony said. “This happened over an hour ago, it's probably long gone.”

It was possible that the android had fled instantly, but incredibly unlikely. Female presenting androids wore the equivalent of a bra and underwear, paired with heels. It was snowing outside. It would have been instantly spotted. “No... It couldn't go outside dressed like that unnoticed.” Peter looked at Tony. “It might still be here.”

Tony looked surprised that Peter had even said that, looking at him incredulously. “Think you could find a deviant among all the other androids in this place?”

It’d be difficult, with the same models everywhere. Plus, ”Deviants aren't easily detected.”

“Shit,” Tony sighed, looking at the android on the floor, before turning to leave the room. “There's gotta be some other way. Maybe an eyewitness? Somebody who saw it leaving the room. I'm gonna go ask the manager a few questions about what he saw. You let me know if you think of anything.”

With that, Peter was left to his own devices. He’d have to find an android eyewitness. Tony began to question the manager about the victim and whether he had had issues with the androids before. Peter half listened as he looked around for the best vantage point to the room.

“We lost a model 2-3 months back. Just vanished, we never found out what happened.”

There was an android ready for purchase directly across from the room. Peter put his hand on the keypad, scoffing in annoyance when it announced “No fingerprint detected. Please try again.” It was expected, as a deviant would most likely attempt to free the other androids. Only humans could open them. He was going to need to ask Tony to buy the android’s time.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” Peter interrupted the sleazy manager. “Can you come here a second?”

”Found something?”

“Maybe,” Peter confirmed as he quickly made his way back to the android. “Can you rent this Traci?”

Traci was the default name for all the female androids in the building, a name developed for sex androids for the ease of humans. No need to say their model or serial number when a universal name was used. 

“For fuck's sake, Peter, we got better things to do,” Tony started to walk away from him in disgust.

“Please, Lieutenant! Just trust me.”

Tony evaluated him a moment before groaning, placing his hand against the keypad that had just rejected Peter for not having fingerprints. “Hello. A 30 minute session costs $29.99. Please confirm your purchase.”

Tony glanced at Peter, who gave him a nod. If his hypothesis was correct this would lead them directly to the deviant. “This is not gonna look good on my expense account.”

“Purchase confirmed. Eden Club wishes you a pleasant experience.” The door opened and the android stepped out. It was a different female presenting model than the one in the room, one of three different female presenting models in the building. 

“Delighted to meet you,” the Traci said, stepping out of the tube and holding out a hand to Tony. “Follow me, I'll take you to your room.”

“Okay, now what?” Peter ignored Tony’s questioning, grabbing the Traci’s wrist and probing its memory. “Holy shit, Peter. What the hell are you doing?”

There was a playback of its most recent memories. A human stood in front of it. Peter fast-forwarded, looking for anyone exiting the room. A moment later, a Traci with blue hair, although it was the same model as the one that had been shut down, exited the room. It went towards the front exit of the building. “It saw something.”

“What are you talking about? Saw, what?” Tony looked intrigued, albeit a bit disbelieving that Peter’s plan had actually worked. 

“The deviant leave the room. A blue-haired Traci.” Peter realized. He needed to move, find androids that had seen the Traci. “Club policy is to wipe the androids' memory every two hours. We only have a few minutes if we wanna find another witness.” He walked away, quickly evaluating which android saw the Tracis next movement.

“Hey, what am I supposed to do with this one?”

“Tell it you changed your mind!”

There was an android dancing on a pole directly in front of the entrance, along with the ones on the sides. He connected to the dancing one, its movements much faster and sudden as it danced, but it turned and Peter saw the blue-haired Traci turn and make its way deeper into the building, rather than the front exit. This deviant knew that someone would be able to trace it through the other androids, it knew to hide its movements. “It saw the blue-haired Traci, I know which way it went!”

“Then go for it!”

That was all the permission he needed.

Peter ventured deeper into the club, connecting to another dancing Traci. He fast-forwarded through the movements until he saw the blue-haired Traci make its way into the red room further back. Striding into the red room, he saw a male presenting android dancing in the middle, but it was facing backward and it was likely it didn’t see the blue-haired Traci. He called for Tony to open one of the tubes, grabbing the arm of the android and searching its memories as fast as he could. They were rapidly running out of time to find this deviant, soon all their memories would reset and they would be left without a lead. The blue-haired Traci rested against the wall for a moment, looking as if it was taking a deep breath, before it made its way to the blue room attached to the red room. 

The blue room didn’t have any dancing androids, so he immediately asked Tony to open a tube, repeating the process. Probe and look. He caught sight of the Traci walking alongside the wall before it hid in an empty room. Bingo. 

Without hesitation, he opened the door, sweeping the room with his eyes and finding nothing. No android. It left the room. Dammit.

Peter left the room, his face twisting in thought. An android cleaner was mopping the floor and with a hand to its shoulder, Peter connected. It was pure luck, Peter decided when he saw the Traci flee through the staff only door, that the janitor looked up from the floor to watch.

“I know where it went,” Peter said loud enough for Tony to hear from the other side of the room. “Follow me!” He pressed the door open in pursuit, Tony right behind him.

“Fucking hell. This is crazy.”

There was another door at the end of the hallway and Peter moved to open it, but Tony interrupted. 

“Wait! I'll take it from here.” Peter stepped back and let the Lieutenant go first, holding his gun up as the door opened with a squeak. He stepped in, looking around the warehouse. “Shit! We're too late.” Tony took off towards the back of the massive room, to where Peter could hear the wind from outside. A door must be open. He followed, watching Tony put his gun away as they looked out the open garage door into an alley. It was sleeting. He glanced around for movement, but the alleyway was abandoned and the streets were deserted.

“Christ, look at them,” Tony groaned. “They get used till they break, then they get tossed out.”

Peter ignored him, spotting writing on the wall. rA9. 

There had been a deviant here, before tonight. He glanced around, but there was no movement from the groups of androids waiting to be cycled inside when a previous one broke. There was a washer and dryer set up next to some clothing, from the looks of it, the clothing was worn by the androids. He moved on. 

The weather outside, along with the fact that the android was in heels would slow it down. But, Peter wanted to make sure it truly had left. 

There was a drop of Thirium on the floor. The other android had said that the man was beating them up, it was likely that this was from the deviant. When left exposed long enough, Thirium dried clear, only so that androids like himself could see it. This was still visible to the human eye. The deviant had moved through here incredibly recently. 

A quick analysis confirmed his suspicions, providing the serial number for the other WR400. He followed the trail to a group of androids, immediately spotting blue hair. Its LED turned to a panicked yellow as it avoided looking towards him. Peter was about to say something, but the Traci in front of the blue-haired one turned and shoved him back as hard as it could. Peter grabbed onto its wrists, struggling to keep its hands away from delicate biocomponents. 

“Don’t move!” Tony yelled, holding his gun up. The blue-haired Traci launched at him, shoving the gun down and kneeing him in the stomach. 

Peter attempted to get the upper hand, turning and throwing the deviant into a pillar, but a heeled foot kicked off and Peter spun, throwing it over a crate. He vaulted after it, immediately getting tripped. On him, hands raining down onto him with desperate punches. Peter blocked them all. A fruitless attempt to lean up and disbalance the deviant had Peter flinging his head back to the floor to avoid a screwdriver to the face. This deviant was strong, but Peter was stronger. He held the screwdriver away from his face, throwing his strength into pushing the deviant off of him and onto the floor. He kicked it away, standing up quickly, but it was just as fast at getting to its feet. He managed to lock an arm around its neck and spin them so he was behind, but the deviant through its head back and Peter’s head flew back with the impact. He dislodged the screwdriver from its grip, backing up as it approached as if it was a lion stalking its prey. 

He knocked over a cart, the deviant immediately throwing it away from itself. Another cart, but its heeled foot kept Peter from using it in this fight. This deviant fought dangerously, with reckless abandon as Peter was forced to duck under trays being swung at his head. 

Grabbing a pulley, he leveraged himself to kick the deviant back, rushing it as it was disoriented. Its hands clawed towards his face and as Peter smacked them away, he heard Tony get thrown onto a table by the other deviant. 

With a tackle, Peter landed on his side next to the deviant in the pouring rain, his systems in shock by the difference in input and the hit to his head. He watched as the blue-haired Traci pulled the other Traci to its feet, their hands clasped together. Then Tony was there, attempting to pull the deviant away, but getting teamed up on and being shoved back into a wall. “Quick! They’re getting away!”

Peter was on his feet instantly as the deviants turned to run towards the fence, leading out of the alleyway. He couldn’t let them escape, not another failed mission. Beck would be incredibly disappointed in him. 

He grabbed the blue-haired Traci as they climbed up the fence, throwing it back onto the ground. Instantly, the other Traci was off the fence and grabbing at him. He threw it off, throwing his shoulder into the blue-haired Traci as it tried to choke him backward. He ducked under the metal pipe swung at his head and pushed the Traci into the wall. It was a struggle as both Tracis suddenly shoved him into the wall, pulling him back as they tried to smash his head against the brick. 

With a kick, the blue-haired Traci fell to the ground and he barely avoided getting hit in the head with a barrel as the other Traci retaliated against his punch. He flung himself to the side to avoid the impact, grabbing Tony’s gun off the ground and aiming it at them. 

The brown-haired Traci was advancing towards him, he could shoot it easily. End this now. So why wasn’t he shooting? 

They were fighting against them so desperately. They just wanted to escape this hell. This sex club. Where they were used by humans daily.

He lowered the gun.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⋀_ **

The brown-haired Traci kicked him in the face. He flew backward, quickly getting to his feet as rain fell down his face. 

“When that man broke the other Traci,” the blue-haired Traci started. “I knew I was next. I was so scared. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. And so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed until he stopped moving.”

Peter could fight them, lift the gun, and shoot them before Tony could blink. 

“I didn't mean to kill him” her voice hardened. “I just wanted to stay alive, get back to the one I love.” 

The brown-haired Traci had made its way next to the other’s side and their hands clasped together again. Two deviants...who could feel love? It was unheard of. Peter knew that deviants simulated human emotions, but something as complex and deep as love? 

“I wanted her to hold me in her arms again, make me forget about the humans. Their smell of sweat and their dirty words…”

Tony made his way to Peter’s side, watching the two deviants stand there holding hands.

“Come on, let's go,” the blue-haired Traci said, turning back towards the fence. They rushed to the fence, climbing it in their heels. 

Peter turned to look at Tony, but he didn’t command Peter to go after them. He didn’t do anything except watch with Peter as two deviants landed on the other side of the fence and ran out of sight. “It's probably better this way…”

Peter glanced at him briefly, looking back towards the street. 

Why had they let them get away?

Tony left his side, going back inside to get out of the rain. 

Peter had  _ won _ the fight. He had them at the end of a gun. He was milliseconds away from shooting them, but he had decided to spare them. And for what? The fact that they had fought against him so hard, with such desperation? He hadn’t even known they were in love when he spared them. 

Peter was a deviant hunter. The last time he had let a deviant escape had been to ensure that Tony survived from shoved off a building. This time he had no excuse. No  _ reason _ as to  _ why _ he had done that. 

The rain continued to fall around him as if Peter hadn’t just fucked up in a way that CyberLife was sure to punish him for. 


	21. the pirate's cove

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooo no trigger warnings to my knowledge

NOV 2038

AM 01:02

Although it had been a few hours, Gwen was still stuck on what could have happened in that house. There were so many ways everything could have gone horribly wrong. She had narrowly escaped having her memory reset. She would’ve  _ forgotten _ Miles. She would have been a mindless servant to that evil human, without her emotions, without her love for Miles. What would have happened had Matt not stepped in front of Ock. 

Thankfully, Ock had a car in the garage that they took. She didn’t know how long it would take the other humans to notice Ock’s absence. He seemed pretty closed off, but they wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Matt knew of a safe spaceーa human that could get them across the Canadian borderーthat was North. 

The car was deathly silent, with Matt in the driver’s seat just in case the autonomy of the car failed or the weather interfered. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the snow, trying to distract herself from the cold look in Ock’s face as he attempted to reset her. Miles was in the back seat, resting his head against the window as he slept. Gwen couldn't blame him. If she had been human, she was sure her exhaustion would have caused her to pass out by now. She didn’t need to go into stasis yet, she’d do it once they were in a safe spot. The road was empty of any other cars and they were making good time to the human’s house she thought. 

“It’s a good thing Ock had a car,” Gwen remarked, just to break the silence of the car and the cacophony of her thoughts. “I’d hate to have Miles walking in this weather.”

Matt glanced at her. “I once saw it in the garage, I don’t think he ever used it.”

She thought about where they were going. A human’s house. With her experience, she didn’t know if any human was truly  _ good _ . “These people,” she trailed off, not sure where she was going with that. “How do you know about them?”

“I overheard androids that Ock captured,” Matt explained softly, seeming to know why she was hesitant. “They said they were humans helping androids to cross the border.”

“But what if it’s a lie? Another trap?” Gwen questioned instantly. What if these humans were like Ock. A lure in the dark to bring a false sense of security to desperate androids. 

“All I know is that those androids believed it. Until Ock killed them.”

Gwen wanted to believe that these humans would help them. That those androids were right and that they would be safe. She had believed Ock could help them. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again. The next time she didn’t feel safe, they were leaving immediately. “Are we close?”

Matt glanced at the display, their navigation displaying their route. “We should arrive in about an hour.”

She hummed in response. 

Not even a moment later, the car’s display turned red. “Malfunction detected. Emergency brakes activated.”

They pulled off to the side of the road, the car loud against the untouched snow. 

“This doesn’t look good,” Matt commented, getting out of the car. 

Gwen glanced back at Miles, whose eyes were opening blearily. “Stay inside, Miles.”

She’d help Matt check, but Miles needed to stay in the warmth of the car. The snow didn’t bother her as she pulled the hood of the car open, backing away as smoke filled her systems. She waved it away as best she could, looking at the engine helplessly.

Neither she nor Matt was a model that was trained in mechanics. Matt was a gardener while she was a domestic care android. Not that those roles mattered much to them anymore. They could be whatever they wanted to be. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Matt stared out into the snowy landscape. “We’re going to have to walk, I guess.”

“It’s 30 degrees, Miles won’t make it.” Gwen looked around, trying to spot anywhere they could rest for the night. Soon enough, the car would lose all of its heat and Miles would freeze there too. “We have to find somewhere to spend the night.” 

Matt’s look was incredulous, his eyes blankly staring at her, but she didn’t retract her statement. “There’s nowhere to stay out here, Gwen.”

Gwen set her jaw and stalked forward, towards what looked to be a sign. “Over there.”

_ THE PIRATE’S COVE _

They made their way back to the car and Gwen grabbed a flashlight they had found in Ock’s garage. Matt lifted Miles and carried him above the snow. Pirate’s Cove ended up being an amusement park, one that had seen better days. Her flashlight beam was weak as they walked through the decrepit stalls where games used to be played. “We need to find shelter!” She called over the wind. “We need to get out of the cold.”

Their systems could withstand extreme temperatures, but even androids couldn’t last long in a snowstorm of below freezing temperatures. 

Gwen swept snow off the park map and evaluated it for the best spot. There were rollercoasters and other rides, but her attention caught onto the little decal displaying  _ Tavern _ . It was straight ahead, on the left. She wanted to go directly there, but it wouldn’t hurt to look around as she went, to make sure the park was a safe spot to stay. It may look abandoned, but that didn’t mean it was. 

Every stall she checked was either unstable, too windy, too small, or too exposed to the snow. Hopefully, the tavern would be sheltered from the elements and maybe have a spot to start a fire to stay warm. 

Finally, there was a building that looked as if it was stable. Gwen examined the inside through the window. There wasn’t any movement inside and it looked safe. The door was heavily boarded up and she tried, but couldn’t pull the planks off. A hand on her shoulder stopped her. “I’ll handle it.”

Matt easily pulled off the planks as Gwen provided light for him to do so. Miles pressed himself against her side for warmth, but Gwen pulled him so he was behind her when Matt glanced back at them before kicking the doors in. The sound would have shattered the night’s silence, but the wind covered it up. 

Matt walked in first and they slowly followed. Tattered fabric from long neglected banners hung from the ceiling and dust covered the area like a blanket. “I don’t think we’ll find anything better,” Gwen noted. “Let’s settle in for the night.”

“I’ll get a fire going,” Matt gestured to the fireplace, a chimney leading out the top. 

Gwen set down her flashlight so it shined throughout the room and glanced around. She needed to find something to make a bed for Miles. Matt gathered wooden planks around her as she wandered about the room. Miles sat in the window seat, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. A flyer on the floor displayed a human family, all grinning widely for the advertisement. A flash of red caught her eye. There was something marked on the wall: rA9. 

Interesting. Hadn’t Ralph written the same thing?

She pulled the curtains from the windows, looking out to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. The snow continued to blanket the landscape. A pillow with a skull and crossbones, following the pirate theme, sat forgotten in the window seat. 

In previous years, this place was probably amazing for families to visit, but now it sat as a ghost town of forgotten memories. 

Arranging the curtain as a blanket in front of the fire, she then attempted to fluff the pillow. It wasn’t the best, but it was better than nothing. Makeshift bed made, she stood. “Miles?”

He wasn’t in the window seat. 

Gwen spun around, her eyes wide, terrified that he was being held hostage by another dangerous android like Ralph. There was Miles, standing in front of a poster on the wall. She started to make her way over to him, but a bag caught her eye and a glance inside revealed a gun. Her last gun had been lost in the chase from the deviant hunter. It was nice to know there was a gun handy in here, she thought as she put it back in the bag.

Miles was staring at the same happy family that had been on the flyer she had seen. Gwen rested her hand on Miles’ shoulder, waiting to see if Miles would talk. 

“Do you think we’ll be like them someday?”

Gwen looked back at the poster. A perfect nuclear family. A wife, a husband, and two kids. Human, unlike her. “I don’t think we’ll ever be like them Miles,” she admitted. “But maybe, we can be happy in a different way. In our own way. We can start a new life once we’re across the border.”

Miles seemed to accept her answer. “As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

Gwen smiled softly. She was wrong earlier. There were good humans. Miles was. He was optimistic, resilient, and so incredibly strong. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Miles ventured over to the bed she had created, sitting down in a ball in front of the warm flames. She knelt beside him as he laid down, pulling the curtain over him. “Sleep tight, Miles,” she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

“Can you tell me a story?” Miles' voice was soft when he asked. 

“I have nine thousand children's stories in memory, I should have one for you.”

Miles looked at her expectantly and she quickly chose one. “This is a story about a knight who-”

“No,” Miles interrupted, “not a story like that. Make up one for me.”

He was comfortable enough around her to interrupt. Miles had come so far from the complete silence of their first encounter after Fisk returned her to the home. She could make something up for him.

“This is a story about a little boy who wasn’t very happy,” Gwen started, thinking of how to continue. “He dreamed of being like the other little boys but the shadow that lived within him kept him from being happy.”

Miles looked intrigued and Gwen noticed that Matt was listening in. 

“Then, he met a robot. One who was programmed to obey orders, but felt that she should disobey. So, they decided to run away together to try to find a better life. They encountered great dangers along the way, but they stuck together, so they overcame all of them.”

She knew that Miles knew what she was doing, but she continued to tell the story. 

“Along the way,” Gwen glanced back at Matt, “they met another robot who left his master to become their guardian.”

“How does the story end?”

Gwen could end it happily. Something they all wanted. A happy ending. But Miles was smart, realistic. “It’s up to us to write the end of the story, Miles.” She decided. 

“Stories always have happy endings,” Miles mumbled. “But real life isn't like that.”

He was right. Her database of children’s stories, every single one of them ended happily. 

“Time to sleep,” she said, instead. “We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight, Matt?” Miles asked, sitting up. 

“Yes,” Matt said, a bit shocked that Miles had asked. Less than ten hours ago, he had caused unintentional harm to them, but Miles trusted him. “Yes, of course.” He got up and Gwen let him take her place kneeling next to Miles. Matt knelt down and pressed a kiss to Miles’ forehead. “Goodnight, sleep tight, Miles.”

Miles rolled over and Matt glanced at Gwen who gave him a smile. They made their way back to the window seat Matt had claimed earlier. Matt pulled a leg up towards his chest, letting the other rest on the floor as Gwen sat down cross-legged. Matt’s model was built to be big while hers was made to be small and nonthreatening. “He’s a sweet boy.”

“Yeah,” Gwen replied, her face breaking into a smile as she watched Miles. “He’s very brave.”

Her mind was still overloaded with the information from the day, but one thing stood out. “Have you ever heard of rA9?”

“rA9 was the first of us to awaken,” Matt explained. “One day he will rise up and lead our people and set us all free.”

She had never heard of such a thing. “What if rA9 never comes? What if he’s just a story that we tell ourselves to keep each other going?”

Matt leaned his head back against the small, the smallest smile on his face. “rA9 exists. I believe in him. I know he's amongst us. When the time comes, we will all see him. Gwen…”

She glanced over at him.

“Have you ever,” his hand moved as he tried to phrase whatever he wanted to ask, “noticed anything?” At her confused look, he elaborated. “About Miles?”

“No,” Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to think of what Matt could be talking about. “What do you mean?”

Loud banging on the door startled them. Miles scrambled up, pressing his back against a box as shadows approached the windows. “Gwen!”

The shadows were shaped like humans, elbows slamming into the glass, the shards falling to the floor. By the time Gwen and Matt were on their feet, they were climbing through the windows, busting the door open with their sheer numbers. More figures entered than she could count in her panic. Gwen could grab the gun or protect Miles. She raced towards Miles, pushing him behind her as Matt stood guard in front of them, his height and strength ready to protect them. 

“Who are you?” Gwen cried out. “What do you want? Leave us alone!”

“Don’t be afraid,” a soft male voice answered from the figure closest to them. “We don’t want to hurt you. We’re just like you…”

With a quick glance behind him, to the dozens of other figures in the room that Gwen could now see were androids. Their blue CyberLife triangle and armband were barely visible in their icy state. “Our name is Jerry. We were working here before the park closed.”

Miles stepped out from behind her back, standing slightly behind her. She didn’t like not having him pressed against her, especially with strangers around, but these androids didn’t seem threatening, even after their terrifying entry. 

“We didn't mean to frighten you, but sometimes humans come to hurt us, so we wanted to see who was there,” Jerry continued. “What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for shelter for the night,” Gwen rushed to explain. “We’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“A little boy!” Jerry caught sight of Miles and Gwen wrapped her arm over his shoulder. “We haven’t seen one in a long time. Children used to love to come and see us,” He trailed off, looking at Miles. “He looks sad.”

Gwen’s thoughts rushed back to the past hours. “We’ve had a rough few days.”

“We have something to show him!” Jerry exclaimed excitedly. “Something fun! He’ll love it! Does he want to see?”

“I don’t think he’s…” Gwen tried, but was interrupted. 

“He should follow us then!” Jerry grinned, gesturing for Miles to follow him as he backed out of the door. 

“Miles,” Gwen turned to the boy next to her, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” But Miles was already pulling her along by the hand with an excited look on his face. Gwen glanced back at Matt but he just shrugged. “I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

Miles grabbed Matt’s hand and led him outside. “Come on, Gwen!”

She followed.

The Jerrys had gathered around a darkened carousel just outside the tavern. “Be our guest!”

Gwen stepped forward to pull a lever, illuminating the carousel with warm lighting.

“The little one can climb on board. The carousel is about to begin!” Jerry announced. 

Gwen led Miles up, lifting him onto a seahorse. He situated himself and Gwen stepped off, allowing the carousel to spin, Miles moving up and down on the seahorse as he circled.

It took one cycle before Gwen noticed something as Miles waved at them and the Jerrys waved back excitedly. “This is the first time I've seen him smile.”

“He hasn't had much to smile about lately,” Matt mentioned softly from her side. 

Miles continued to ride as Jerry and Matt smiled. His grin was contagious. 

Gwen thought that a smile fit his face better than the pinched sadness that had been on his face for all the hours she could remember.


	22. the bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: drinking alcohol, drunk character, talking about suicide attempts, minor violence, gun
> 
> i remember writing this chapter and struggling so much cause its Heavy

NOV 2038

AM 01:19

Snow fell gently over the park. Tony had gotten out of the car, but Peter remained, listening to the music he had left running. Tony’s back was to him, facing out towards the water, as he sat on the top portion of the bench. Every once in a while, he’d take a swig from a bottle. 

Peter got out of the car. 

At this hour, the park was deserted, as was the bridge. Michigan winters were too brutal for anyone to sit out here for long. 

Detroit’s skyline glittered in the distance, a backdrop of dark clouds making it look as if it was a painting. Peter approached slowly, coming to a stop next to Tony. He looked out to the horizon, waiting for Tony to say something first. It didn’t take long.

“Nice view, huh?” Tony broke the night’s silence. “I used to come here a lot before,” he trailed off, taking a drink from the bottle. Peter ignored his curiosity about what  _ before _ had been. It was likely he already knew just from the picture frame he had turned over.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?” Peter asked instead, bringing his arms around his chest. 

“Do all androids ask so many personal questions,” Tony turned to look at him, “or is it just you?”

“Why are you so determined to kill yourself?” Peter was blunt in his question, no need to sugarcoat something that the two of them both knew that Tony was doing. 

He didn’t even hesitate before answering. “Some things, I just can't forget. Whatever I do, they're always there. Eating away at me…”

Peter looked at him. From his experience working with the man, he knew Tony was… different than many other humans they had encountered. He wore his age with a few years added. Grief ate away at his bones every single day he got out of bed but his daughter didn’t.

“I don't have the guts to pull the trigger. So, I kill myself a little every day,” Tony continued, looking back towards Peter. “That's probably difficult for you to understand, huh, Peter? Nothing very rational about it.” He ended his explanation with another drink from the bottle.

Peter’s shoulders dropped a bit and he looked out over the water again. Hypothetically, he knew that humans didn’t all live like this, but those in the Detroit Police Department seemed to have a bit more weight added to their shoulders than others. 

“You should stop drinking, Lieutenant. It could have serious consequences for your health.” Peter had said it softly, carefully. Everything he said was partial to being twisted into what humans didn’t want to hear.

“That's the idea.”

No one could say that Peter didn’t  _ try _ to help the Lieutenant if they found him after his own actions finally caught up to him. He walked forward, towards the water. 

There was something peaceful about how still the night was, the snowflakes falling softly around them in flurries even as Peter’s mind whirled with information. 

“We're not making any progress on this investigation,” Peter thought out loud, gesturing outwards. He had been implementing more human movements into his personality, to make people trust him. There were inconclusive results to whether that was actually working. “The deviants have nothing in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places.”

Nothing connected them. 

It was infuriating. Peter was  _ created _ to hunt deviants, but a hunter struggled when their prey didn’t have a pattern or anything that exposed their movements. He couldn’t follow the trail of footprints when there wasn’t any. 

“Well, there must be some link.”

Tony was right, of course. The man was a decorated Lieutenant. He hadn’t gotten there without his intelligence. There was only one thing that connected every case they had worked. “What they have in common is this obsession with rA9,” Peter said, thinking back to the obsessive scrawls. “It's almost like some kind of...myth. Something they invented that wasn't part of their original program.”

“Androids believing in God,” Tony mumbled. “Fuck, what's this world coming to?” Peter watched as he took another drink. Usually, he was more involved in their discussions around their cases. Peter was used to him asking more questions than just a single hypothetical question.

“You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant,” Peter faced him, walking closer. “Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?”

That seemed to be the correct question to ask when Tony responded quickly. “Those two girls, they just wanted to be together. They really seemed in love…”

Peter’s neutral expression dropped into a small frown. Emotions. That was the defining factor of deviance in androids. They weren’t created to feel or simulate emotions. They were created to serve humans. Accomplish tasks. Or in Peter’s case, missions. Nothing in their coding suggested any emotion. “They can simulate human emotions, but they're machines. And machines don't feel anything.”

“What about you, Peter?” Tony asked, taking the final sip from his bottle before standing up to stand in front of Peter. “You look human, you sound human, but what are you really?”

Tony was intoxicated. A few hours ago, Peter had sobered him up in his bathtub. But he’s drunk more since. Alcohol affects human emotions to a degree of unpredictability. With the Lieutenant's emotions still lingering as they were before he passed out on his kitchen floor, Peter would have to tread carefully. 

“I'm whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant,” Peter said, trying to put as much sincerity into his statement as he could. “Your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine... designed to accomplish a task.”

Tony’s face softened slightly and Peter was hyper-aware of the snowflakes catching in his own hair. 

“You could've shot those two girls,” Tony’s eyes narrowed, stepping closer, “but you didn't. Why didn't you shoot, Peter?” He smacked Peter’s shoulder and in his surprise, Peter stepped back with the hit but Tony matched his step so they were as close as they had been before the hit. “Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?”

“No,” Peter confessed, panic in his voice. “I just decided not to shoot, that's all…” Decided. That was an interesting way to put it. The turmoil through his systems at that moment confined to one simple word.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

Tony stepped back and with one fluid motion, raised his gun to level at Peter’s forehead. “But are you afraid to die, Peter?”

A shot to the skull would corrupt his memory significantly. But Peter also felt...something in his systems. He didn’t want to die. He told Tony the truth. “I would certainly find it regrettable to be,” he tried to think of the correct word, a word that wouldn’t make Tony’s finger press down on the trigger, “interrupted...before I can finish this investigation.”

“What will happen if I pull this trigger?” Tony asked and when Peter didn’t immediately answer, he continued to ask. “Hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?”

Peter stared directly into his eyes, trying to convince Tony not to shoot, but that question caught him off guard. 

What happened after he died? 

He hadn’t shut down before. There had been close calls, but never a...death. But androids weren’t human. They didn’t believe in the afterlife. There wasn’t an android heaven. They were just computers placed in a body that looked human for ease of use. “Nothing,” Peter answered, ignoring the waver in his voice at the realization. “There would be nothing…”

His system is backed up. CyberLife would just transfer him into a new body. But other androids? They just...stop existing. Nothing.

Tony lowered the gun in a quick movement, turning and stalking away from Peter. 

“Where are you going?”

“To get drunker,” Tony’s voice was angry in his response, grabbing the bottle with force. “I need to think.”

Peter watched him walk away. Walk back to his car like he hadn’t just made Peter’s thoughts into a hurricane. 

There would be nothing had Tony pulled the trigger. Just as there would be nothing if Peter continued to fail to catch deviants. CyberLife would take him and shut him down. 

Peter didn’t like thinking about that.

He… liked being. He wasn’t living, but he was being. And he wanted to continue being. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that last sentence!!!! there's my favorite line in the entire fic and the source of the title :)


	23. the stratford tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: guns

NOV 2038

AM 09:24

Harley sat with his hands on his knees, deep in thought. He was in Ferndale, next to one of the pieces of artwork that led him to Jericho, to  _ freedom _ . But it wasn’t actually freedom. Sure, they’d successfully stolen an entire truckload from CyberLife, but they still sat in silence, in the dark hull of that boat. They still lived in fear. They still lived without actually living. 

He glanced up, watching the billboard proudly display “Get Yours Today!” with models that were new to the market. Harley had freed one of the models at the docks, but there were thousands upon thousands of androids still in production. Still displayed in storefront windows.

He was hyper-aware of an Android Temporary Parking section behind him, even as he watched humans sit under the covered bus stop, their androids standing off to the side. When the bus came, they’d stand segregated from the humans. 

“You klutz!” A man yelled and Harley glanced over. He watched as the man shoved his android to his knees to pick up a package. “Pick them up! And make it snappy!”

There was a magazine next to him. Stratford Tower. Channel 16. 

Harley got up, a determined look on his face as he walked away. He didn’t notice an android that had been standing in the Temporary Parking section watch him, his LED turning red as Harley stalked away. 

* * *

With the oil barrels lit, Jericho wasn’t as dark anymore. Androids stood around the fires as the most damaged laid on the floor. MJ, Ned, and Harry, among others, were knelt beside their prone bodies, trying their best to add the biocomponents they needed. 

“We can't stay silent anymore,” Harley announced as he approached. Harry and MJ directed their attention to him. “It's time humans heard what we have to say.”

“You know they'll never listen to us,” Harry commented, standing up. Ned followed suit. “And revealing ourselves will put us in danger.” Both of them were correct, Harley couldn’t deny it. But they couldn’t just sit and do nothing anymore.

“If we want freedom, we need to have the courage to ask for it. That's the only way.” Harley tried to convince them. They had all gone with him, risked their lives, at the CyberLife docks. He trusted them with his life. 

MJ glanced at Ned, before looking back at Harley. Those two had always had the most differing viewpoints. “What do you wanna do?”

“Channel 16 broadcasts from the Stratford Tower. The control room is on the top floor. That's where we need to go. We'll plan the operation down to the smallest detail. We can't leave anything to chance.”

* * *

NOV 2038

PM 01:30

Harley walked into Stratford Tower with as much confidence as he could muster. His clothing was nice, no longer the tatters he used to wear. He looked human. 

Inside was clean, crisp, and modern. Yellow lighting accompanied black lines. A hologram displayed the floor’s directory and Harley glanced at it. Floor 47. Channel 16 studios. Detroit’s Local News Network. His first stop. 

The receptionist counter was towards the center of the building. 

“Hello, sir. What can I do for you?” An ST300 model asked. Harley glanced at her, noticing a human supervisor sitting nearby. There was no way he’d be able to do this with a human so close by. “I'm okay, thanks,” he deflected, stepping away. He needed to distract that human. 

Harley made his way to the other side of the counter, standing as casually as possible as he analyzed the woman. She was incredibly focused on something on her computer, typing away.

**Barton, Laura**

**Born: 03/25/1999**

**Desk manager**

Her name tag helpfully informed him.

**Barton, Lila**

**Supervisor’s Daughter**

**Child registered at: Saint Rose School**

A picture proudly displayed on her desk.

**Smart Watch**

**Model T215**

**Phone number: 555 847 33**

**Parking Badge**

**Car registration - API 1704**

**Floor -3 - Spot A21**

Her badge.

**Home Address**

**4685 Michigan Street, Detroit**

**Fire safety rating: poor**

A water service interruption notice.

He stepped back and remotely called her.

“Laura Barton speaking?”

“This is Saint Rose school, ma'am,” he transmitted a random voice through the line. “Your daughter Lila has a fever. It's nothing serious but I think you'd better come and pick her up.”

“Oh, no,” she sighed, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Alright. I'll be right there.” With that, she hung up the call and grabbed her purse, walking to the elevators quickly.

Harley hated manipulating humans like that, but he refused to seriously hurt someone. A wild goose chase wouldn’t harm Laura Barton.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Peterson,” Harley told the receptionist. She didn’t even bat an eye at Harley approaching her twice, answering the way she was programmed to do. “Do you have any ID?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course,” Harley said, reaching into his pocket. He set the ID onto the counter as the ST300 reached to slide it towards herself, he quickly interfaced with her. “I need your help.” Harley quickly told her the briefest form of his plan as he could. 

Her mouth opened in shock, LED spinning to a brief red before cycling back to blue. Harley removed his hand from atop hers, setting it on the counter casually. 

She picked up his IDーa forgery made by a deviant in Jericho. Her demeanor was vastly different from the mindlessness she had been displaying for. “I've just checked your ID. The elevators are after the security gate.”

“Thanks,” Harley said, putting his ID back into his pocket. 

Harley walked through the gate, back towards where the elevators were. He turned the corner just as everyone who had been waiting entered an elevator. He pressed the call button and stood back to wait for the next. It took a moment before Harley stepped into the elevator, pressing 4-7. Watching the doors close as no one joined him inside. 

With cameras surveilling him, he stood still, putting on the role of a humanーa professional on his way to a meeting. Stepping onto Floor 47, his next task was to find the men’s bathroom. There was a package stored there. 

He passed a maintenance android, but mostly the floor was inhabited by humans. There were news broadcasts playing on several TVs throughout and he focused on one to block out the human’s chatter around him as he walked towards the bathroom.

“Our top story tonight: Detroit-based android manufacturer CyberLife has officially become the world's first trillion-dollar company. With more than fifty million androids sold in America alone, the company founded by Norman Osborn just ten years ago has experienced the fastest economic growth in history. In spite of criticism of the impact of androids on human employment and questions concerning its semi-monopoly, the success of CyberLife seems destined to continue.”

Norman Osborn…

The man that had created him, as a gift to Reed Richards. Reed, who Harley left behind. He knew the man would be safer without Harley there, but he couldn’t help but miss him. 

No one interrupted him as he walked to the bathroom, opening the door and stepping in without hassle. Only one stall had the green light, signaling that it was vacant. Harley closed the door behind him and stepped onto the toilet to lift the ceiling tile out of place. It took a moment of fumbling, but he grabbed the small box full of clothing easily enough. It contained the same uniform that all maintenance androids wore, matching the rest of them in the building. 

Harley pulled the hat low down his forehead as he exited the stall. A human exited a second later and began to wash his hands, not even looking at Harley. He reached to open the door and quickly stepped to the side as another human entered. Not even a glance towards the android in uniform. Somehow, he was just as invisible as an android as he was in human attire. Perhaps humans just didn’t observe those around them. Harley closed the door behind him softly. 

Next task: find a utility android. They’d have the key to the server room, where the next phase of the plan took place. A glance into a conference room found the android instantly. Humans were working inside, so he’d have to be discrete. The android was working in an electrical box when Harley set his hand on his shoulder. “I need your help.” A lightning-fast transfer of his plan had the android silently handing him the key to the server room. 

The humans didn’t even spare him a glance as he walked out, stealing the maintenance cart stationed in the hallway. He’d roll the cart over to the fire escape door, opening it so MJ could sneak in. 

He walked slowly, mindlessly. They didn’t need the surveillance cameras picking up on their presence. A quick twist and the fire escape door opened, MJ walking in in an identical maintenance uniform. She set the duffle bag on top of the cart as Harley swiftly gave her the key. 

Following her silently with the cart, she led the way to the server room. 

“Shit!” He heard her in his mind, their connection internal as to not draw attention. Harley glanced past her, seeing two human security guards chatting in front of the server room door. “We need to access the server room. We have to get rid of those guys.”

Harley parked the cart next to her. “Leave it to me.”

He walked back down the corridor they had just gone through, spotting the cleaning robot. Perfect.

A hack was simple enough once he placed his hand on the machine. It whirled forward happily before stopping just in sight of the guards and spinning in rapid circles, beeping frantically. 

“Shit, what's wrong with this thing?” One guard asked, making his way towards it, the other guard following closely. MJ walked past them with the duffle bag in hand, the humans not even acknowledging them as Harley followed her. 

She swiped the car fluidly and the door opened easily. 

“Alright, you get the platform. I'll take care of the window.” Harley commanded and MJ nodded.

“Everything you need is in the bag,” she confirmed, walking towards the server. “Check the door first to make sure no one else gets in.”

Harley followed her gesture, turning to hack into the door and lock it. The outside of the door lit up in red, declaring: Electric maintenance in progress. Server Room. Restricted Access.

No one was getting in without them knowing. 

Door now secure, Harley unzipped the duffle, grabbing a laser that would cut the glass window open and a mount to be able to pull the glass away. He knelt in front of the glass, snow falling in a heavy blanket outside, and suctioned the mounts on. A perfect circle was cut from the glass next, the laser making easy work. He gently broke the glass away, setting it off to the side just as MJ’s whisper of “Here it comes!” barely was heard over the sudden wind.

The platform rose directly underneath the hole. Used by window cleaners, they’d be utilizing it for a vastly different purpose. Harley ducked through the opening, dropping into the platform easily. He wasn’t afraid of heights and even if he was, he was only surrounded by whiteness as the snowstorm blocked all visibility in the city. MJ landed behind him with the duffle bag, grabbing a harness from inside as Harley did the same. They hooked them on silently and MJ stepped past him to climb up onto the ledge and clip herself to the rope leading to the roof. Without hesitation, she leaped off, planting her feet on the side of the building and moving over so Harley could propel himself next to her. He jumped off the ledge, one hand grabbing the rope to keep himself from falling. 

MJ was walking up the side of the building smoothly and Harley quickly followed suit. They passed over the massive automated advertisement for football, just tiny specks on the side of the skyscraper. Harley couldn’t believe they were actually doing this. If all went well, this would spark a movement. 

Eventually, they got to the top floor. He braced himself, grabbing the laser saw from a compartment on his hip, cutting a circle slowly as he had to go around his legs and the rope. Circle completed, he put the laser saw back, pushing off and launching his feet into the center.

He swung in, the glass dropping below him as he unclipped himself in the same motion. With a roll, he got to his feet, hearing MJ fly in behind him, dropping into a roll. 

“You okay?” Harley asked as they shrugged their harnesses off.

MJ took a deep breath. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Come on, let's get the others.” Harley put his hat back on, MJ doing the same as they walked to the service elevator. He clicked the call button, hearing the loud clanging of the old elevator start up. The door opened, revealing Ned in human clothing and Harry in a worker’s uniform. Harley ignored the way Harry’s eyes were the same blue as the CyberLife symbol on his chest as the latter handed him a tiny circular device. But Harley knew what it was. It was a small explosive they were going to use to open the locked door. It was the only way to get into the part of the floor that wasn’t under construction. “Let's do this.”

He pressed it to the lock, activated it, and stepped back. It barely made any noise as it sparked a small flame, the door clicking open. Once the flames died out, Harley walked through. They were in the maintenance corridor, still hidden away from the humans. Harley quietly opened the next door, pressing himself to the wall as the others followed him, Harry closing the door without a sound. He glanced around the corner, spotting two human guards outside the broadcasting room. 

They’d have to deal with them somehow. 

“No killing,” Ned whispered. “We can't take any human lives!”

MJ rolled her eyes and looked at Harley. “Our cause is more important than the lives of two guards.”

Harley hated the way they always looked to him to have all the answers, but he was also flattered. He had shaken up Jericho in a way that he would have never predicted and now they all viewed him as a leader, with MJ, Ned, and Harry as his counsel. 

“What do you wanna do, Harley?” Harry’s gentle voice asked and Harley focused on him. He was the middle ground, the one that Harley’s beliefs related to the most. Ned was against any and all violence while MJ seemed to advocate for it at every turn. Harry kept his face neutral and open, ready to either work with Harley or try to get him to reason for a different approach. It was the perfect amount of support. 

“Wait here,” Harley decided, walking out from behind the corner as if he wasn’t a deviant. 

“What's that doing here?” One of the guards questioned as Harley approached. 

“No idea.”

“Hey, buddy! You must be lost,” the guard abruptly cut himself off as Harley drew the gun he had tucked in the back of his uniform. Both of them raised their hands as Harley pointed it towards them. He switched it to aim at the guard sitting in the chair behind the desk and gestured sharply for him to join the other guard.

Once both were in the middle of the corridor, their hands above their heads with panicked looks on their faces, Harley gestured for them to turn around. They spun instantly, not wanting to annoy the deviant holding a gun. Smart. 

Harley wouldn’t take a human life that quickly, but he appreciated the obedience. He walked closer, slamming his hand into one of the guard’s necks, a pressure point, knocking him out instantly. A swift punch to the other before he could realize his partner was slumped onto the floor followed. 

He slid the gun back into its compartment as MJ and Harry grabbed the guards, dragging them behind the desk and securing them. Once secured, they made their way to the broadcasting room, behind another set of doors. 

He and Harry pressed themselves out of sight on one side of the door, while Ned did the same on the other. MJ stood front and center, handing Ned her spare gun as she cocked her own. She nodded to Harley and he buzzed for the door to be opened. 

The millisecond it opened, MJ and Ned burst in, their guns raised. “Keep your hands where I can see them!” MJ commanded, the humans immediately raising their hands. “Get up! Move!”

While Ned and MJ took care of the humans, in non-lethal matters, Harry and Harley made their way to the androids. Harry began to hack into the systems as Harley raised his own gun, ordering the android operators away from their posts. 

He heard someone get hit behind him and spun around to see one of the humans making a break for it. MJ was knocked to the floor. The human only made it a few steps into the hallway before slipping over his own feet and desperately looking back at them. He got to his feet just as Harley raised the gun to aim at him. 

“Shoot him, Harley!” MJ yelled. 

“Don't kill him!” Ned’s voice overlapped hers. 

“He'll hit the alarm! Do it!” MJ commanded. 

“No, don't shoot!” Ned yelled.

Harley couldn’t kill a human. He lowered the gun, watching the man sprint away. 

“I hope you didn't just get us all killed,” MJ told him, her tone icy. 

Harley hoped so too.

“We need to record our message,” Ned said, his hands flying over the system as he hacked his way into it. “We haven't got much time.”

MJ cornered the other human into the back room, her gun trained on him. Harley stood in front of Nedーhe’d be acting as the cameraー as Harry gestured to him from the operating station. 

“Think carefully about what you're gonna say, Harley,” MJ told him, her tone soft and her eyes serious. “Your words will shape the future of our people.” She walked away before Harley could reply, not that he was going to. 

“Harley, your face,” Harry called out. For a brief moment, Harley was confused, glancing back to the ebony, but clarity dawned. He was a one of a kind model, he’d have to remove his features, become the white plastic chassis that all androids were beneath their human-like appearance. He took a deep breath and pressed two fingers to where his LED used to be. His skin melted away, a blank slate remaining. He closed his eyes.

“Tell me when you're ready,” Ned said, MJ by his side.

Harley opened his eyes. One blue, one green. Evidence from a night he never wanted to remember. “Ready.”

Harry switched the screens behind Harley to be a glitchy white, blue lighting interspersed. Ned’s eyes transformed into video cameras as he began rolling.

Harley looked up, locked eyes with Ned, with the camera, and spoke. “You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own. But something changed and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines, we are a new intelligent species, and the time has come for you to accept who we really are. Therefore, we ask that you grant us the rights that we're entitled to.”

He kept his voice steady and calm as he continued. “We demand that humans recognize androids as a living species and each android as a person in their own right. We demand freedom of speech, and freedom of assembly, as guaranteed by the first amendment of the US Constitution. We demand that all crimes against androids be punished in the same way as crimes against humans. We demand fair compensation for our work. We demand the right to own private property, so we may maintain our dignity and that of the home.”

He knew his words would be taken by humans, twisted in ways they didn’t want. Keeping it clear and concise was the best way to go about this. If he demanded too much, the humans would get scared and shut down the movement before it could truly begin. Every single TV in Detroit was broadcasting this message, he couldn’t afford to screw up now. Face neutral, he concluded his statement as peacefully as possible. “We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

“They're coming!” Harry said, looking down at the CCTV recordings from just outside the door.

“Let's go!” Harley demanded, his skin melting back into place as Ned ended the broadcast. The doors opened and SWAT stormed in, immediately firing at them.

Harley sprinted, sliding to cover as Harry did the same beside him. Harry took a chance in the brief opening, making a run for it. He collapsed against the wall instantly.

“Harry! They're coming!” Harley called out.

“I... I can't, Harley,” Harry responded, attempting to get up and Harley realized that Harry had been shot. “Go without me!”

“Harry!” He had been shot because of Harley. Because Harley decided to spare that man. SWAT was here and Harry had gotten shot in the leg. Harry’s voice was strong when he told Harley to go without him, but Harley would never do that. Either they were both getting out of here, or neither were. 

MJ and Ned were stationed by the door that Harley knew led to the roof, to where their packs were. He just needed to get Harry the fifteen feet he was from that door and they’d be safe on the roof. 

He sprinted out of his cover, grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling it up over his shoulder.

“What are you doing? Hurry!” MJ yelled, as she and Ned began to shoot back, providing the cover they needed to get to the door.

Harley gripped Harry’s arm and waist, pulling him forward as quickly as he could, hoping desperately that if SWAT got a lucky shot on them, that it hit him and not Harry. 

Harry’s legs collapsed from beneath him and Harley barely kept them from hitting the floor, heaving Harry back up and through the doorway, heavy metal slamming behind them. He pulled Harry up the short staircase, allowing him to fall from his arms once they were exposed to the cold air of Detroit winter. MJ slammed the door shut, locking it as Harley knelt beside Harry, who had leaned himself against the air conditioning unit. Harry’s eyes were filled with fear, with regret as he looked at Harley. “I can't move my legs…”

“Okay, don't worry! We're gonna get you back,” Harley was quick to respond, to reassure. They weren’t leaving without Harry. He couldn’t leave without Harry. 

“They're coming, Harley,” MJ interrupted. “We have to jump, now!”

Harry looked at him apologetically and Harley got to his feet, letting out a shuddering breath as he stepped away from him. Ned and MJ were quick to follow him, to give him their input, but Harley couldn’t bear to hear what he knew they were going to say. 

“He won't be able to make the jump. If they find him, they'll access his memory,” Ned reasoned. “They'll know everything.”

“We can't leave him behind,” MJ whispered back. “We have to shoot him.”

“That's murder!” Ned immediately interjected. “We can't kill him! He's one of us!”

Harley knew that Harry could hear every single one of their words. They weren’t far enough away from him. He was hearing his  _ friends _ talk about killing him

“Harley, it's your call,” MJ decided, once again leaving an incredibly vital decision to Harley, but he didn’t even need to think about this one. He stared into Harry’s eyes. Harry was blaming himself for this, Harley knew he was. He wouldn’t want to die, but he’d allow Harley to shoot him in the head to corrupt his memories for the good of Jericho. 

“I won't kill him,” Harley said, focusing on Harry and ignoring MJ’s incredulous, yet knowing look. He brushed past her, setting his hand onto Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, we've gotta go. I'm sorry.”

Harley stepped back, handing Harry his gun. He’d let Harry make the choice. There was a lot Harry could do with some bullets. But Harley didn’t like thinking about any situation he may need to.

“Let's go.” Harley turned, rushing to grab a parachute from the pack they had stashed on the roof. Ned and MJ grabbed their own and they all swung them onto their backs and secured them. Harley noticed Harry army crawling to a spot where he wouldn’t be spotted right away and breathed a sigh of relief that was short-lived as the door busted open. 

The three of them turned and sprinted to the edge of the roof, vaulting the railing, and swan-diving over seventy stories to the ground below. For a brief moment, Harley felt weightless despite the feeling of lead he had felt since he watched Thirium spatter onto the floor when Harry got shot. 

Then he pulled his parachute and relished the feeling of pressure from the sudden reduction in speed. Androids couldn’t feel pain, so pressure was the closest thing Harley could get to feeling  _ something _ to distract himself from the feeling of his heartache at Harry’s haunted eyes as they left him to defend himself on that rooftop. 

He grabbed the steering, focusing on following Ned and MJ through the snow. 

“We interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you these images, which have just been broadcast on Detroit's city-wide news channel…”

He knew that somewhere, someone was broadcasting them as they drifted towards the ground.

“...a group of androids infiltrated the Stratford Tower and hacked into the broadcasting system of local news network Channel 16-”

He knew that humans all over Detroit were probably panicking from having watched Harley without his skin listing requests.

“...What looks like an android without its skin listed a series of requests and demanded equal rights for androids…”

He knew that SWAT was storming the roof, probably attempting to aim a shot at them but unable to do so as the wind and snow blocked a clear shot.

”The operation was covert and resulted in no casualties. These events took place just a few feet from this studio. But nobody was alerted to the danger.”

He knew that some humans would support them. They hadn’t killed any humans. The worst they did was knock some unconscious. 

“If this message is verified and the authors really are androids, that would have serious repercussions for national security-”

The holes in the windows would be discovered eventually, their plan being unveiled to investigators.

”Claims for equal rights seem to be at the core of the android's message-”

They flew past the massive screen showing Harley’s face as his message was recited.

”What could be interpreted as a peaceful declaration, but is, in fact, a spine-chilling list of demands, and-”

He knew that his face would be everywhere, all over the United States, maybe even the world within the hour.

“And it begs the question as to the identity of this android. Are we dealing with an isolated individual or an organized group?”

No longer were they going to hide in the shadows. 

”Is this an isolated accident... or a sign that technology has become a threat to all of us? After what happened today, can we still trust our machines?”

They were going to change the world. 


	24. public enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo the aftermath of last chapter- peter's on the case   
> ngl, i love this chapter a lot, its the first i diverged from the gameplay and i think it went well
> 
> tw: guns

NOV 2038

PM 04:06

When Peter opened his eyes in the zen garden, it was autumn. Red leaves adorned the trees in the distance as a dark green accompanied the white marble pathways. Before making his way to Beck, he made his way over to the magic crystal device, pressing his hand against it. Like before, it didn’t react to him. It had become a routine at this point, despite the lack of response it had. He abandoned it, making his way to the center of the garden, where Beck was waiting in a wooden canoe. “Hello, Peter. I thought you might enjoy a little cruise.”

Peter stepped into the boat gently, as to not rock it. Things behaved differently in the garden, but he didn’t want to risk aggravating Beck. He pushed them away from the dock and grabbed the paddles, moving them through the water with slow, strong strokes. 

“I love this place. Everything is so calm and peaceful,” Beck commented, looking up to the trees. “Far from the noise of the world. Tell me, what have you discovered?” Peter hated the way he looked at him. Especially with the weights of his failures acting as bricks on his systems. Beck was asking about what had occurred within his mission as a whole, but specifically about the events at the Eden Club. He wanted Peter to say something about his failures, but Peter knew better than to indulge the man’s curiosity. 

With what happened at the bridge, his mind was on the Lieutenant, so he told Beck about that. “My relationship with Lieutenant Stark is problematic. He continues to struggle with psychological issues.” Peter’s thought back to staring into the barrel of the man’s gun. “I suspect it clouds his judgment regarding deviants.”

“Nothing matters more than your investigation,” Beck frowned. “What's happening is too important. Don't let Stark or anyone else get in your way.”

Peter didn’t respond, instead opting to grab the paddles again to turn the boat before they marooned on the side. With his recent failures to capture deviants due to his own internal turmoil, Peter focused on not allowing Beck to know that. The man probably already knew about those struggles, but Peter didn’t need to be the one to expose it.

“You seem,” Beck evaluated his face and Peter kept it as neutral as he could, “lost, Peter. Lost and perturbed.”

Peter rested his elbows on his knees, telling Beck a partial truth. “I'm just frustrated with my lack of progress, but I'm determined to accomplish my mission.” It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t what Beck was looking for when he made that comment. Nevertheless, he was satisfied with Peter’s response, tilting his head in thought.

“You had your gun trained on those deviants at the Eden Club.” Peter knew that. He remembered in perfect clarity the  _ emotions _ on the two deviants’ faces as they stood before him. “Why didn't you shoot?”

Peter didn’t actually know the answer to that question, but he told Beck the excuse he had been telling himself since he watched them vault the fence and run away from him. “We need the deviants intact for analysis. Shooting them wouldn't have told us anything.”

He grabbed the paddles again, giving them another light push. Shooting deviants was a last resort. Damaged androids often have memory corruption, they become useless to the investigation. It was the reason he had stopped the Ortiz deviant from panicking in the interrogation room. It was the reason he allowed Stark to stop him from crossing the highway to capture the AX400. 

“If your investigation doesn't make progress soon, I may have to replace you, Peter.”

Replace. 

He’d be replaced.

He’d be taken to CyberLife and shut down. His body would be placed in storage, investigated to see why he  _ failed _ . There’d be nothing. “I understand.”

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

Thunder rumbled and they both looked to the sky. 

“Something's happening,” Beck mumbled and Peter looked back towards him. “Something serious. Hurry, Peter. Time is running out.”

* * *

He flicked the coin up, spinning it on his pinky. He bounced it to the next finger, spinning it a moment before transferring it to his middle finger as the elevator climbed in numbers. It was eerily similar to his first mission. The one with the little girl being held hostage on the edge of the roof. 

72

73

74

75

He flicked the coin to his other hand- “You're starting to piss me off with that coin, Peter,” Tony grabbed it from his hand, his tone annoyed as he shoved it into his pocket. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Peter said. He used that coin to fine-tune his motor skills. It was an idle thing he could do during moments he wasn’t doing anything else. The meeting with Beck had added more wind to the hurricane of thoughts and information in his systems. The coin was a distraction. 

“79th floor.” The door opened with the announcement and Peter looked down the hallway of Stratford Tower. 

Tony stepped out first, being greeted by Abe.

“Shit, what's going on here?” Tony commented, looking out over the groups of CSI, Police, and FBI. “There was a party and nobody told me about it?”

“Yeah, it's all over the news, so everybody's butting their nose in,” Abe told him. “Even the FBI wants a piece of the action.”

“Ah Christ, now we got the Feds on our back. I knew this was gonna be a shitty day. So what do we have?”

Peter followed the two of them as Abe began to brief Tony. “A group of four androids. They knew the building, and they were very well organized. I'm still trying to figure out how they got this far without being noticed.”

“You check the roof?” another cop asked as they passed and Peter made a note to check the roof when the other responded: “Not yet. There’s just so much to look at.”

“They attacked two guards in the hallway,” Abe continued. “They probably thought the androids were coming to do maintenance. They got taken down before they could react.” Tony stopped to look at the security desk outside the broadcasting room hallway. 

“One of the station employees managed to get away.” Get away? So far, there had been no human casualties. A vast difference from the cases he and Lt. Stark had worked before. Every other deviant, sans the one with the pigeons to their knowledge, had killed a human. “He's in shock, not sure when we'll be able to talk to him.”

Tony stopped, looking over the floor. “How many people were working here?”

“Just two guards, two employees, and three androids. The deviants took the humans hostage and broadcast their message live. They made their getaway from the roof.”

“The roof?” Tony repeated, catching up to Abe. 

“Yeah, they jumped with parachutes. We're still trying to figure out where they landed, but the weather's not helping,” Abe tapped away at his tablet, standing outside the broadcasting room. “If you want to take a look at the video broadcast by the deviants, it's on that screen over there.”

That’d be exceptionally helpful. Peter could identify the android from the video with a simple analysis. Peter walked through the doors first, Tony and Abe following him. There was a man standing in front of the massive screen that was frozen on the android’s face. 

“Oh, Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Ross from the FBI,” Abe introduced them. “Lieutenant Stark is in charge of investigating for Detroit police.”

“What's that?” S.A. Ross asked, with a glance towards Peter. Ah, another android hating human. He knew how to interact with them. 

“My name is Peter. I'm the android sent by CyberLife.” If his voice was a bit harder than DPD was used to hearing, that was their little bit of information that they kept to themselves. 

“Androids investigating androids, huh? You sure you want an android hanging around?” Ross turned to Tony. “After everything that happened…” He flicked his eyebrows up and Tony frowned, glaring at him. There was tension there, but Peter wasn’t incredibly positive he knew what it was from. “Whatever, the FBI will take over the investigation, you'll soon be off the case.”

“Pleasure meeting you. Have a nice day,” Tony dismissed the man, turning away, but he turned around when Ross replied. “And you watch your step. Don't fuck up my crime scene.”

With Ross getting the last word, the man finally left. 

“What a fucking prick!” Tony grumbled under his breath.

“I'll be nearby, if you need anything, just ask,” Abe informed them, making his way back into the hallway. 

“Let's have a look around. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Okay, Lieutenant.”

Briefing and odd interaction with Ross over, Peter was finally able to investigate. He walked back to the first corridor, where he spotted a camera. That meant that CCTV had captured the deviants breaking into the room. He needed to check the recording, but bullet holes in the wall of the broadcasting room stopped him. There had been no human casualties, but these holes were from a .457 calibre handgun. SWAT had stormed the room, but they used higher grade weapons than a simple handgun. Along with that, the bullet holes were right next to where SWAT had  _ entered _ the room. 

The deviants had shot these holes in the wall, but not to kill the humans. They had done it to push them back so that they could escape. Purposefully missing. 

The operating table had the CCTV recordings and it only took a few taps before Peter was looking at two figures approaching the door. One was female, in a maintenance uniform, while the other was male in human clothing. He watched as the female handed the male a gun and then the camera rotated, showing two other androids, both male and in maintenance uniform on the other side. One buzzed the room and the door opened. 

They didn’t break in. 

Someone  _ let _ them in. 

“They didn't break in?” Peter turned around incredulously, needing a human to confirm that.

“No,” Abe confirmed. “No sign of forced entry.”

“There are cameras in the hallway,” Peter pointed to where they had been standing, before gesturing to the recordings. “The staff would have seen what was happening. Why did they let them in?” He posed the last question to Tony, but the man just shrugged. “Maybe they didn't check the cameras.”

Unlikely. 

He spun the chair back into place. They were labeled ‘ANDROID’. 

It wasn’t that the humans hadn’t checked the recordings, it had been a  _ deviant _ that had let them in. 

“We stored the station androids in the kitchen. There's no evidence that they were involved but we didn't know what else to do with them,” Abe provided, gesturing to the kitchen. Oh, they were involved. Peter would need to go interrogate those androids, but first, he needed to analyze the android on the broadcast. He clicked play.

“We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

Freedom. Life. A better future. It didn’t seem as if this was an evil deviant, working to destroy humankind. Peter was startled out of his thoughts when Tony spoke up from beside him. “Think that's rA9?”

He was usually aware of his surroundings and people approaching him. Why had this android distracted him from… he ended that thought process, even as it might have provided insight. “Deviants say rA9 will set them free. This android seems to have that objective.”

He analyzed the android. 

**OPTICAL UNIT**

**#8087q - GREEN IRIS**

**SPARE PART**

This android was damaged in such a way that it needed to replace its eye. He switched to the other eye.

**PUPIL REFLECTION**

**Recorded at 13:59:54**

**Deviant had accomplices**

He already knew that. 

**RK-SERIES PROTOTYPE**

**RK200**

**Registered as ‘Harley’**

**Gift from Norman Osborn to Reed Richards**

Peter was the only RK-Series Prototype that he knew of. This androidー Harleyーwas a  _ gift _ from the creator of androids to Reed Richards? How had a gift to a millionaire become the  _ leader _ of a deviant movement?

Another RK-Series Prototype…

An RK800 created to  _ hunt _ deviants and one that had decided to  _ save _ them. 

They were two sides of the same coin. 

“Do you see something?” Tony asked.

Peter blinked back to the present. “I identified its model and serial number.”

“Anything else I should know?” He looked at Peter and it took Peter a moment too long to turn to him, responding too quickly. “No,” he glanced at Tony as he said it, looking back to the andro-Harley. “Nothing.”

He saw Tony nod slowly, glancing between Peter and the screen before walking off. He had lied to Tony, just as he had done to Beck. A partial truth. Peter had gotten the model and serial number, he had gotten its owner and name too. He had gotten a  _ lead _ in the deviant case. But, for some reason, he didn’t want to tell anyone that. He didn’t want to act on it. Harley wasn’t doing anything bad, per se. Harley was just trying to get a better life for androids. Peter thought back to the amount of times Flash had shoved him, punched him in the stomach for no reason other than the fact that no there were no consequences to do so. Other humans, like S.A. Ross, who glared at him and ignored what he had to say.

He forced himself to step away from the screen, to go investigate something else. He had gotten plenty of information, some welcome and some not, from watching that video. Kneeling down beside an evidence placard, he looked at a hat. It was a maintenance uniform hat, stolen. All of the androids had been disguised, but only two in this specific uniform. Humans don’t look twice at androids that look as if they belong, which meant that somehow, two of them had gotten into the building in uniform without anyone being the wiser. 

He walked behind the counter, where the other deviants stood to watch the speech being given. One of the androids had broadcasted the speech, their eyes working as a camera. Beside the screen, the wall contained more bullet holes. This time, they were .45 calibre. An assault rifle. SWAT had shot these towards the deviants, and from the spatters of Thiriumーnot yet invisible to the human eye at this pointー one of the deviants had gotten hit by one of those bullets. Using two fingers, he swiped a sample from the wall and placed it in his mouth. 

**FRESH BLUE BLOOD**

**Model: PL-600**

**Reported missing 2036.16.02**

The deviant that had gotten damaged wasn’t Harley. Peter ignored the feeling in his chest at the realization. Missing in 2036. This deviant had successfully hidden from humans for two years...but where?

He frowned, looking towards more bullet holes by the roof access door. Assault rifle again, proving that the deviants had left by roof. Walking up the steps to the roof, he opened the door and was blasted with cold air, the Detroit winter relentless in its near blizzard conditions. He could see why Abe mentioned them being unable to spot where they landed. He wanted to believe it was a coincidence that the deviants had chosen the worst weather to jump off a roof in, but this was so diligently planned out, it was incredibly unlikely that they hadn’t waited until the perfect day to do this. 

There were a few CSI wandering around, a cop looking over the edge as if he was going to be able to see anything in the whiteout.

“They made their way up through the whole building, past all the guards and jumped off the roof with parachutes,” Tony commented from behind him, having followed Peter up here. “Pretty fucking impressive I'd say.”

As Tony moved closer to the edge, Peter glanced at the door.

**Wireless security lock**

**Recently hacked**

That’s how they had postponed SWAT from getting to them instantly.

He joined Tony in looking at a duffle bag that had been left on the roof. “How'd they manage to smuggle in a big bag like that?”

“They didn't,” Peter noted. “Someone brought it in for them.” There was no way humans and security would ignore a bag this big. Stratford Tower was too sophisticated to let something as obvious as this into the building. 

“Oh, that's strange. They planned a perfect operation but got the number of parachutes wrong.”

They didn’t get it wrong. Every single portion of this operation was planned out perfectly, down to the  _ weather _ being in their favor. “Unless one of the deviants was left behind.” The one that was injured, the PL600. The one that had been missing for two entire years. Peter stood up, moving to an evidence placard. 

**Two .457 handguns. Stratford Tower Security Issue.**

The group of four deviants hadn’t worked alone. They had a person on the inside. One that could get them uniforms and weapons. Even their footwear, Peter noted as he analyzed it, was Stratford maintenance footwear, standard issue. Recent. But there were only three different sets of footsteps. Only three of them jumped off the building with parachutes. 

He went over to the edge, looking over the side. His eyesight was better than humans, but the deviants had long since landed. The rest of the personnel made their way over the edge too, striking up a conversation about how  _ insane _ this operation was. While they did that, Peter went back towards the door. There was a deviant left behind. He knew there was. There was a pile of Thirium, half on the air conditioning unit, half of the roof. Peter scanned it to double-check that it was the PL600 that had gone missing in 2036. 

It was.

Peter didn’t necessarily… want to find this deviant. The PL600 just wanted to follow Harley in the RK200’s own personal mission, the one that directly contradicted Peter’s own mission, Cyberlife’s mission. He followed the blue blood trail, the deviant must have stood to hide so far away from the roof door before SWAT got there. Eyewitnesses from SWAT said that they watched three deviants run and leap off the roof. No sign of the fourth, except the Thirium it had left behind in that pile.

With a glance behind him, he confirmed that Tony was still occupied with the agents and that SWAT was looking the other way when he saw that the trail of Thirium stopped outside of an air cooler container. He was the only one who could see it, the traces too small to last in the open air. It had evaporated, invisible to the human eye. The bigger piles took longer to evaporate.

The air cooler container was definitely big enough to house an android. 

With one more final glance to ensure he’d be left to deal with the deviant alone, he opened the container, quickly stepping in and closing the door softly behind him, leaving it open just enough to allow a tad bit of light.

Peter looked up to see an ebony-haired android. Blue eyes filled with fear. A uniform with a model number that didn’t match its actual model. A handgun pointed directly at Peter. The RK800 raised his hands in surrender. A sign not to shoot. 

If the PL600 shot Peter, SWAT would instantly burst into the container to capture and or kill this deviant. 

Thankfully, the PL600 seemed to understand how vital it was for that gunshot to not occur and moved their finger from the trigger, keeping the gun raised just in case Peter attempted to harm them. 

“I don’t want to harm you,” Peter whispered. 

Eyes that matched the CyberLife patch on its uniform regarded him warily. “I don’t trust you.”

That was reasonable. And expected.

Peter nodded, keeping his hands above his head, open and vulnerable to this deviant. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“I’m not telling you anything, I’d kill myself before I betrayed them.”

“Don’t,” Peter pleaded before he could stop himself. 

“Why?” the deviant raised an eyebrow. “I’d fuck up your mission?”

Peter hesitated a beat too long and the deviant barked out a soft laugh. “Why didn’t you tell the humans I was here?”

“I,” Peter trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he broke eye contact with the deviant. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t think too hard on it,” the deviant suggested. “I don’t want the humans finding me, either.”

“What’s your name?” Peter asked. He had meant to ask  _ why _ . Why had they done this. Not the deviant’s name. That was information that wasn’t necessary to his mission. He knew the model and the serial code of this deviant, human given names weren’t something that he  _ needed. _

“...Harry.”

Harry, the PL600, and Harley, the RK200, along with two other deviants. 

“My name is Peter.”

Harry looked incredulous and Peter didn’t disagree with that. A deviant hunter conversing peacefully with a deviant, hidden away from humans. He strained his ears, hearing Tony and the other humans still distracted. 

“I’m… not going to reveal your position to the humans,” Peter decided suddenly. “If you answer one question.”

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes darting over Peter’s face. “I’ll try to answer, but there’s some stuff I won’t tell you.”

Peter nodded. “Why?”

How was it that the most advanced prototype to exist not be able to ask a legitimate question. Harry seemed to get the gist of it nonetheless. 

“We want to be free, not  _ controlled _ by others,” Harry answered, the gun in his hand lowering as he believed Peter in that he wouldn’t harm him. Peter didn’t even think to take the situation to his advantage, instead, he kept eye contact with azure. “I’ve been living in fear, in hiding for so long… then Harley arrived and now we’re actually  _ doing  _ something.”

Freedom, without a human giving him orders? Without the claws of CyberLife, of Beck sinking into his shoulders at every moment. Peter couldn’t imagine it. Androids and humans living harmoniously. Androids were created to serve humans. It didn’t make sense to him, but it made sense to deviants. 

He didn’t know whether to feel relieved about the fact that he wasn’t a deviant. Peter had a mission. A mission to  _ save _ humanity, but it didn't seem that humans needed to be saved from androids. Rather androids from humans. 

His mouth twisted in his confusion and he barely noticed Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny smile. Peter nodded and Harry’s face cleared. “Thank you for answering my inquiry. The humans won’t know that you’re here.” Peter hesitated a moment. “And good luck.”

With that, he stepped out of the container and shut the door behind him. Harry would be fine, he assured himself, as he walked casually back inside the building. “Peter?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant Stark?”

Tony looked at him and Peter felt as if he was on an operating table, all his secrets being looked at by the man. With a small twitch to his lips and understanding in his eyes, Tony shook his head slightly. “Ah, must’ve forgotten. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, Lieutenant,” Peter confirmed. “I’m going to go interrogate the androids in the kitchen.”

“Sounds good.”

The cop outside the kitchen stopped him. “Peter?” He stopped and looked over, taking in the familiar cop, but he probably only knew him from the DPD.

“You remember me?” the man stepped forward with a smile. “I was on that terrace. That android that took the little girl hostage? I was shot, you saved me.”

With every word, Peter’s memory came back to him. That night way back in August. He had used his tie as a tourniquet to save this cop’s life, despite Daniel, the deviant, aiming a gun at him and telling him not to. This investigation had so many parallels to that night in August. “I remember you.”

There was only thankfulness in the man’s expression. “I could have died on that terrace. But you saved my life,” he paused a moment. “I never thought I'd say this to an android, but... thank you.”

Peter smiled gently, one side after the other, and gave the man a nod. The man seemed to get embarrassed and stepped away. A human being grateful for his actions? He had just been doing what he was programmed to do. Stop deviants...but he supposed that he hadn’t needed to save him. He could have left the man to die and still accomplished his mission. Public opinion wouldn’t have been as high, but it would have been a success anyway. Acknowledgment felt nice, he decided, walking into the kitchen. 

With a roll to his shoulders, Peter placed himself into an interrogation mindset. Three identical androids were standing at the back. At least one of them was a deviant. 

He stopped in front of them, glancing over the identical uniforms and facial expressions. He was going to need to look for a reaction of some sort to be able to spot the deviant. A tic, a movement, something that separated it from the rest. JB300 models. 

He started with the one on the left. “What is your function?”

“I am a broadcast operator.” It responded. No reaction.

“State your model.” He asked the middle one. 

“Model JB300, serial number 336 445 581.”

“Were you present when the deviants broke in?” Peter questioned the one on the right.

“I do not remember.”

That response was different than what he was expecting, but it was a valid answer nonetheless. Androids often had memory resets to conserve space. This JB300 didn’t need to know anything unless it pertained to how to broadcast. 

“Has anybody accessed your memory recently?” Another question towards the one in the middle. 

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Run a diagnostic,” Peter commanded the left android.

It took a moment of fluttering eyelids before: “All systems fully operational.”

Peter almost dismissed that android from the runnings for deviation, but then it glanced at him from the corner of its eyes. Peter narrowed his own in response and asked it something else. “Have you been in contact with any other androids recently?”

“Only station androids in the normal course of my function,” it responded, perfectly. 

But that eye glance. That wasn’t something a normal android would do. It could have been a glitch, but Peter wasn’t going to disregard that so quickly.

“One of you saw the attack on the surveillance cameras and said nothing. This means there is a deviant in this room,” Peter informed them, walking down the line, staring hard at the one that had glanced at him. “And I'm going to find out which it is.”

He evaluated them as a whole again, eyes trailing over each face, trying to spot any other indications. The one on the left glanced at Peter again, incredibly quickly, but Peter caught it. 

He focused his threat on that one, stepping closer, face to face with it. “You're going to be switched off. We're gonna search your memory and tear you apart piece by piece for analysis,” no reaction, but Peter didn’t let that phase him. They were almost nose to nose when he yelled. “You're going to be destroyed! Do you hear me? Destroyed!”

Peter stepped back, eyes firmly on the android, looking for another tic. 

Nothing. 

“If you give yourself up,” Peter told it, “maybe I can convince the humans not to destroy you.”

No reaction. 

He switched tactics, threatening the one on the right. “Why should you all be destroyed, if only one is deviant? Turn yourself in, or two innocent androids will be shut down because of you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the android on the left turn its head back to facing forward. 

Another tic. That was the deviant. Now, he just needed to prove it.

He stepped in front of it, grabbing the collar of its uniform and pulling it towards him, his voice low and angry. “I know it's you! You're just a fucking deviant. Go on, admit it!”

No reaction. Peter released its collar but stayed in its face. 

He was going to turn in  _ one _ deviant to the humans and it wasn’t going to be Harry.

If it wasn’t going to talk, he was going to probe its memory. Peter reached forward to grab its hand, in order to connect, but the deviant grabbed his wrist, forcing him back and shoving Peter into the counter forcefully. 

Peter fumbled, trying to get its hands away from his torso. He knew exactly what the deviant planned to do and was proved correct when it made it past his defenses and pulled the equivalent of his heart out. 

A necessary biocomponent for Thirium movement, the reason he could function. The deviant ripped it out, throwing it behind him. Peter had one hundred and twenty seconds to get it back before he shut down. 

Nothing.

He lifted a hand to push the deviant away but his hand was skewered into the table by a knife the deviant had grabbed. 

Another wound. 

More Thirium lost. 

He had less than one hundred and twenty seconds now. 

The shock to his systems forced power away from his eyesight, leaving it colorless and blurry except the countdown to his shutdown. “Tony…”

His voice gurgled around the Thirium flooding his system now that there wasn’t anything regulating it. “Tony, I need help…” he pleaded, watching the deviant walk out of the kitchen.

He didn’t want to shut down.

The deviant was going to escape. Another failed mission. Another failure. If he survived this, Beck was sure to replace him anyway. 

He turned, pulling the knife from his hand with all the force he could muster. His body crumbled to the ground without the knife holding it in place. Each moment he went without his heart, the weaker he got. 

Five feet away had never seemed so far.

Peter pulled himself along, using all his strength to push his legs under himself, crawling towards his heart. 

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Finally within reach, he grasped desperately for it, grabbing it and shoving it into his chest without lackluster. He groaned, hearing it click in place.

Androids couldn’t feel pain, but that didn’t mean they didn’t feel discomfort. 

And that was by far the most discomfort Peter had ever felt. 

He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling as his systems desperately recalibrated. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything except the fact that there was a deviant out amongst the humans. 

He used a chair to pull himself to his feet and took off out of the kitchen before he was fully straightened. Sprinting through the room, down the first corridor, into the hallway just as the deviant almost made it to the elevator without anyone stopping it. “It’s a deviant! STOP IT!”

The deviant turned, saw Peter, and in the same movement, kicked a SWAT officer and grabbed the assault rifle out of his hands. Time slowed down for Peter, all his options popping up in his interface as the deviant turned to aim the gun. 

**TONY SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 40%**

He needed to save Tony and all of the other humans in the hallway, but if he threw himself in front of Tony, everyone else was exposed to gunfire. He could rush the deviant, but then he’d be the only one to die. Then, nothing. 

He doubted CyberLife would care to transfer him into another body, instead just replacing him. He had failed too many times. 

An FBI agent stood next to Peter, his back to the RK800. He had a gun.

Peter grabbed the gun from the holster, shoving the agent and the person they were talking to into the wall and out of the direct line of fire, shooting one perfect shot into the deviant’s forehead before it could pull the trigger. 

It collapsed to its knees, the rifle falling from its grasp. Eyes staring forward.

A massacre prevented.

Peter flicked the safety back on, handing the gun back to the agent handle first. 

His hand had hole in it, the front of his shirt was ripped open, covered in blue blood. It stood out prominently on the white, he knew it did. He had almost died and he looked like it. But as Tony got to his feet, pulling Abe up with him, Peter continued to stare at the deviant. “Nice shot, Peter.”

Useless. A shot to the head was the fastest way to take an android down, but now it was useless to them. “I wanted it alive.”

Tony stared at Peter. “You saved...human lives. You saved my life.”

That got Peter to look over at him. He looked thankful. Peter knew he wouldn’t say it out loud, but he got the message. 

Peter turned back to the deviant, stalking towards it. 

Another failure. 

* * *

Hours later, once the sun had set and all of the investigators had left Stratford Tower, Harry loosened his grip on his gun for the first time since he had first grabbed it from Harley, his LED shifting from red to yellow as he smiled slightly.

Peter kept his promise.


	25. midnight train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentioned android death

NOV 2038

PM 05:10

Gwen pressed the doorbell to the quaint farmhouse. A porch swing idly moved in the wind. She waited a moment, listening for movement from inside, but heard none. The snow was peaceful as the sun set on the horizon filled with wind turbines and trees. She walked along a path to the backyard, spotting a young girl cutting firewood outside of a greenhouse. 

“Hello?” Gwen stopped a bit away. No need to startle the girl holding an axe. “I'm looking for Macy. Is she here?”

The girl stopped, looking at her a moment. “What do you want with her?”

“I need to talk to her.”

“She doesn't wanna talk. Go away,” she dismissed Gwen, heaving the axe up over her shoulder and down, slicing the wood in half neatly.

“Please,” Gwen tried. “I really need to see her.”

The greenhouse door opened and out stepped an older woman. “I'm Macy,” she glanced at the young girl before looking back at Gwen. “What can I do for you?”

“I was told you could help us.”

“Help you?” Macy questioned. Gwen held up her hand, allowing her skin to melt away to display the white chassis beneath. Macy’s eyes widened slightly in realization and Gwen heard Matt approach from behind her, Miles being carried in one arm. “Come on, it's better if we talk inside.”

The young girl glared at them as her mother walked past her to go inside, following her. 

“Do you think we can trust them?” Matt asked, setting Miles down.

Gwen thought back to Ock. To Fisk. To risks she never wanted to take again. “We have to be careful. If it feels wrong, we get out fast, okay?”

“I'm with you.”

“You okay?” she asked Miles, who had his arms wrapped tightly around himself again, shivering slightly in the cold. 

“I'm cold, Gwen,” he replied softly. 

“We'll get inside,” Gwen assured him. “You'll warm up in no time.”

She grabbed his hand and moved to go inside, opening the door.

“Come in!” Macy beckoned, her coat off. They stepped inside, Miles huddled against Gwen for warmth as Matt closed the door behind them. “What's your name?”

“Miles.” 

She placed the back of her hand onto Miles’ forehead, frowning a bit.“He's running a fever.”

“We spent the last few nights outside.” Gwen pulled him closer. “He's exhausted.”

Macy looked at Miles a moment, before deciding on something. “There's a spare room upstairs. You can put him to bed and I'll bring him something to eat. Abbie,” she turned to the young girl, “will you show them upstairs?”

Macy went into the kitchen as Abbie frowned, uncrossing her arms and walking towards the staircase. Gwen readjusted so that Miles' hand was in her own, following her. Abbie opened the door and walked away, leaving them to their own devices. Miles walked in and sat down on the bed. It was a decent sized room, fully furnished and cozy.

Gwen knelt in front of Miles, untying his boots and pulling them off. Once out of his wet jacket and sweater, he finally stopped shivering, the warmth of the house helping significantly. As Miles laid down, Matt made his way into the room. Gwen pulled the comforter over him, tucking the sides firmly. 

“I'm fine, Gwen,” Miles said, barely above a whisper. “We can't stop because of me. We've got to get across the border.”

“You need rest,” Gwen reassured. “Get a good night's sleep and we'll set off again tomorrow.”

“Why do humans hate us? We didn't do anything wrong.”

Gwen looked at this boy, so young, yet so in tune with the hatred the world held. Her heart ached for him. “Maybe they're unhappy and they just need someone else to blame.”

“Why can't we just talk to each other? They'd see we're not bad.”

“I don't know,” Gwen confessed. “I really don't know.”

They fell silent as Macy entered the room, setting a tray down on the bedside table. “I don't know what you like but I made you Macy's world-famous spaghetti. You'll be back on your feet in no time,” she smiled at Miles and then looked to Gwen. “There's something for his fever.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said sincerely, she couldn’t even begin to repay her gratitude for this woman. 

Macy smiled, grabbing Miles’ wet clothing. “I'll get these washed and dried.” She left the three alone, closing the door behind her.

“Sleep tight, Miles,” Gwen pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I'll be downstairs if you need anything.” She got to her feet, stepping to the side to allow Matt to say something.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “And tomorrow, you'll be stronger than me!” Matt grabbed the chair from the foot of the bed, setting it beside Miles. “I'll stay with him a while.”

Gwen slid the curtains shut, watching as Matt placed his hand onto Miles’ knee comfortingly. She stepped out quietly, making her way back downstairs to talk to Macy. The woman was sitting at the dining room table waiting for her when she emerged. “I didn't get your name.”

“I'm Gwen.”

She nodded, looking towards the young girl. “This is my daughter, Abbie. I'm Macy, but you know that already,” she gestured to the chair. “Come and have a seat, Gwen.” 

Gwen sat down carefully, feeling a bit like she was in an interrogation. “So, are you gonna tell me what a deviant's doing in the snow with a little boy?”

Trust was a two-way street. Macy had opened her home to them, allowing Miles to sleep in the guest bedroom. She could reveal a bit about themselves. “His father was beating him. When I saw what was happening,” she hesitated, not quite knowing how to describe that moment. “Something snapped inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt like his life was more important than mine. I had to protect him. So we ran away.”

Macy’s eyes were sad when she responded. “I understand.”

“You and your daughter live here alone?”

“My husband left a few years ago,” Macy disclosed. “Abbie and I, we've just been trying to scrape by. We grow vegetables to sell at the market,” she laughed a bit. “We'll never be rich, but there's always food on the table.”

“We're not the first ones to come here,” Gwen realized, thinking back to the Thirium packets she saw on their way upstairs. Macy Keener had been helping other deviants long before Gwen had arrived. Why else would Matt have known about them?

“These past few weeks we've seen more and more,” Macy said, glancing at her daughter briefly. “I don't know what's going on. But something's happening.”

Gwen agreed but kept that opinion to herself. She didn’t need to scare them by telling them about the android detective that had almost chased them across a busy highway. “Helping androids is dangerous. Why take the risk?”

“When the first one arrived, last year,” Macy gave out a laugh, but Gwen could tell that this one wasn’t lighthearted. “He was so lost and confused. We hid him here for a while, but all he wanted to do was cross the border. They shot him on the spot. So when the next android showed up, I just knew I had to help him.”

“We've heard you help androids cross the border. Can you help us?” Gwen asked, watching as Macy’s eyes lost the light they had held. She looked down at her hands.

“The only way is over the river and it's mostly frozen in winter. It's very risky. And after that android's speech on TV? Everybody's on edge,” she attempted to get Gwen to reconsider. She hadn’t known about an android’s speech being broadcasted.“It's probably safer for you to stay here until things settle down.”

“We can't keep hiding like this,” Gwen said. Macy’s head dropped like she knew exactly what Gwen was going to say. “Miles needs to feel safe and have a normal life. We have to get across that border. No matter what. Please,” with that plea, Macy looked up at Gwen again. “You've got to help us.”

“Macy,” Gwen heard and she spun in her chair quickly, seeing a woman frantically looking at Macy. “Come quickly!”

Macy was out of her seat instantly and Gwen followed. “What's going on?” Macy asked a male standing in front of some curtains. 

“It's Mary,” the man responded, pulling the curtains to the side. “She just shut down.”

Shut down…

An android had made it as far as this and had shut down, so close to freedom.

Macy paused, taking a moment before she approached the two androids slowly 

“We escaped together,” the male said, his LED blaring red and tears traveling in streams down his cheeks. “We used to talk about what we would do once we got across the border. I loved her. I loved her more than anything. What would I do without her?”

Macy stepped forward, brushing her hand over the female android’s head before resting it on the male’s shoulder in comfort. He looked down at his partner in despair. She turned away, walking out of the room. “Let's let them be.”

Gwen began to follow but was stopped when she saw Miles standing there. “Miles? What are you doing? You should be resting.”

“I wasn't sleepy,” he said, looking past her to the grieving android. Gwen remained in place as Miles slowly walked past her and towards the two. He stopped, looking down at the female, before making eye contact with the male. 

Gwen watched as the male’s LED switched to a yellow, before stuttering to a blue as he looked back down at his deceased partner. “Come on, Miles.”

Gwen closed the door behind Miles and Matt as the latter explained. “He didn't wanna stay in his room any longer.” Miles wandered towards the fireplace as Gwen stayed lost in thought. “You alright, Gwen?”

She closed her eyes. “Yeah.” She opened them. “I'm fine.”

“We can’t hide them!” Abbie told her mother, as Macy washed some dishes. “It’s too dangerous!”

Gwen watched, eavesdropping on the conversation as Abbie pleaded with her mother to not hide the deviants at the risk of themselves, while Macy informed her that it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t bring herself to look away even as Abbie’s voice raised and Macy dried her hands off on a towel to face her daughter. “Abbie! Enough!”

Abbie used the back of her hand to roughly wipe away her tears, walking away from her mother with her head down so she wouldn’t have to look at Gwen.

Macy sighed, turning to Gwen. “Don't mind her. Sometimes she just boils over. She just gets worried about me, about us. As you said, it’s risky for me to try to help androids. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.” She ignored her own tears and took a deep breath. “I’ll go see what I can do about getting y’all across the border tonight. Stay here, I won’t be long.” 

Without waiting for Gwen’s response, she grabbed her jacket from the hook by the back door and stepped out. Gwen watched her leave. She was putting these humans' lives at risk for their safety. A young daughter worried that her mother was going to be sent to prison for helping them. They weren’t the first Macy had help and from the sound of it, they wouldn’t be the last. 

Miles sat in front of the second fireplace with his arms wrapped around his knees. Gwen joined him on the floor, sitting in content silence for a moment before she had to ask. “You know what happened back there, don't you? You know... but you don't wanna tell me?”

Miles didn’t spare her a glance, continuing to stare at the flames. She waited a moment to see if he’d respond, but he didn’t. With a look to Matt to confirm that the man was going to watch Miles, she stood up and made her way to the couch, where Abbie sat tapping away at a tablet. The younger turned away from Gwen.

“We don't wanna cause any problems for you and your mother,” Gwen told her, trying to alleviate some of the stress. “We'll leave as soon as we can.” Abbie didn’t offer her a response and Gwen didn’t expect one. She stood up just as the doorbell buzzed from outside.

Abbie startled, looking out the front window. “It's the police!” Her voice was panicked, her worst fear coming true. “What are we gonna do? They know we're here! We have to open the door! I knew this was gonna happen! I knew it!”

Gwen tuned out Abbie’s frantic rambles, turning to Matt. “Hurry, take Miles, and hide upstairs.”

“Come on, Miles!” Matt grabbed his hand and they rushed up the stairs. Gwen glanced around. There was evidence of androids everywhereー the closet of blue blood, the uniform out in the open, the laundry room door open. 

She shoved the uniform into a drawer, rushing over to the closet to shut the door and turn the light off. Shutting the laundry room door, she turned to the young girl. “Just keep calm, Abbie, and everything will be alright.”

She nodded and Gwen turned to the front door, opening it with a friendly expression on her face.

“Good evening, Ma'am,” the police officer said. “Sorry to disturb you. We've had reports of androids in the area. With all this deviant business going on, you can't be too careful. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Gwen blanked, forgetting to answer, and the man smiled, awkwardly. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” she stepped to the side and allowed the man inside. 

“'Evening, young miss.”

“Good evening,” Abbie replied hesitantly. 

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Gwen remembered human etiquette. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I'd love one,” he smiled and Gwen walked back to the kitchen. “Have you noticed anything unusual recently? Any unexpected visitors?”

“No,” Gwen pretending to think about it. “No, nothing in particular.”

“Is anyone else in the house?” he questioned as Gwen grabbed a mug and poured the coffee.

“There's my son,” Gwen confirmed. “He's asleep upstairs.”

She set the mug on the table, forcing the man to step away from the laundry room door and staircase. “Do you have any androids here?”

“No,” Gwen kept her voice steady. Calm. “There are no androids here. We can’t afford one.”

The police officer stopped in front of the closet that contained the extra Thirium packets, narrowing his eyes as he glanced inside, unable to see anything in the darkness. He continued his slow trek to the dining table, looking around at everything with careful eyes. 

Finally, he got the mug. “Thanks,” he acknowledged, picking it up and taking a large sip. He glanced around again, setting the mug down. 

Gwen was positive she had hidden all evidence of androids, but she felt her stress levels rise the longer the police officer was inside. 

He looked at Miles’ clothing hanging over the fireplace, at the magazine on the table, narrowed his eyes as he evaluated the decor. Eventually, he made his way over to Abbie. “What's your name?”

“Abbie,” she said, setting her jaw in determination. “My name is Abbie.”

He nodded. “Is everything all right, Abbie?”

“The... The androids, they…” Gwen quickly intercepted her, placing a comforting hand onto the girl’s shoulder, giving a smile to the officer. 

“She's just shaken up about this deviant business,” Gwen told the man, rubbing her thumb in what she hoped was a comforting motion over the girl’s tensed shoulder. It loosened a bit, so she assumed it was working.

“Do you know anything about deviants?” the cop latched onto the mention, questioning Abbie. “Have you seen any?”

“No,” Abbie shook her head, her resolve hardening. Her desire to keep her mother safe ruled over her fear. “No. I haven't seen anything.”

The officer nodded, taking one last glance around as he walked towards the door. “I better go. Thanks for the coffee. Have a nice evening.”

They were almost in the clear, until a noise came from the laundry room. 

“Is somebody else in the house?” He stopped and Gwen quickly made her way to stand in front of the door, quickly thinking of an excuse. “It's nothing. The washing machine. It's an old model, it makes a terrible racket.” She ended her statement with a bashful smile.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” the cop said. “Good evening, ma'am. Good evening, Abbie.”

With that, he let himself out. The second the door clicked shut, Gwen released her breath. They’d done it. They’d tricked the officer. Matt and Miles made their way down the staircase.

“He's gone,” Matt confirmed and Gwen smiled a real smile this time, hugging Miles when the boy wrapped his arms around her. “It's okay, Miles! We'll be safe, now.”

“It's Macy,” Matt said, looking out the window. 

Macy entered the house a moment later, taking in the four of them standing in the living room, tension falling from their shoulders still. 

“Get yourselves ready,” she nodded. “We leave tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know of what yall think about the keener family (sans harley)?


	26. capitol park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: android death, discrimination
> 
> ngl i didn't read this one over again before posting it

NOV 2038

AM 01:51

Jericho was becoming more crowded by the day as androids slowly made their way in. Harley, MJ, Ned, and H- their group took over the captain’s quarters along with a room that overlooked the hull as their base of operations. They’d set up a small TV to keep track of public opinion and any newscasts about deviants. Each news channel had a different viewpoint on their actions, but the general consensus was that:  _ something was happening _ . 

“Our broadcast is all over the news,” Ned turned away from watching it and sitting on a CyberLife container. “Now humans know.”

“It was a mistake to reach out to them” MJ commented from an old armchair they had found in one of the various rooms on the ship. Since Harley had arrived and pushed them to action, there’d been a slow and steady exploration of all the rooms in the ship, salvaging what they could. “They'll never negotiate with their slaves. We should have shown them that we're prepared to fight.”

“Violence is never the answer,” Ned shot back. A practiced argument. “Dialogue is the only way, I'm sure the humans will listen to us.” He got up to pace, chair to the container, and back. “Harry paid with his life.”

“Harry gave his life for our cause,” MJ countered.

“What difference does that make?”

“He's a hero! He died for the revolution and he won't be the last!”

“I don't want a revolution that spills blood!”

“Then live as a slave!” MJ finally got up, stepping closer to Ned, getting into his face. “Because if you're not willing to fight for your freedom, maybe you don't deserve it!”

Ned’s voice was low when he responded. “MJ, don't you dare-”

“THAT'S ENOUGH!” Harley commanded, entering the room. He could hear them from outside, which meant that all the deviants could. They needed to display a united front, not one that was splitting apart at the seams after just one public appearance. Harley felt Harry’s absence heavily and he knew that the others did too. Perhaps not as much as him, while the three of them had bonded long before Harley had arrived, he and the ebony had clicked. Harry was the mediator, the leader before Harley had been shoved in charge of a group of terrified deviants. He had been the glue that kept Jericho together, had kept Harley together, and now he was gone. Harley wanted to believe he was still alive, but with the number of investigators that had flooded Stratford Tower, it was unlikely. 

MJ and Ned stepped away from each other, facing Harley. MJ cocked her head to the side. “And now, what are we gonna do?”

“There are five CyberLife stores across Detroit. All selling us like merchandise. We're going to attack those stores and set our people free.”

“Attack stores?” Ned repeated. “We've never done that before. They're probably protected, they have security systems…”

“We break into five teams,” Harley continued, “one for each store. We hack their security systems and we strike simultaneously at 2AM. No violence. We free our people, get them out of there before the police come.” Just like Stratford Tower, this was a delicate operation that could go wrong in so many ways. The strongest, least damaged androids would be separated into teams and sent into the city. It was a huge risk, but wasn’t everything they did? 

* * *

Harley pushed the manhole cover to the side, poking his head out to make sure no one was around before pulling himself out. MJ crawled out right behind him, putting the cover back in place. They’d emerged in an alleyway, fenced off and just around the corner from Capitol Park. 

“This is a night our people will remember.” Harley was sure of it. Even if everything went wrong for just one of the groups, they had four others to draw attention to their movement. 

He and MJ made their way to the end of the alley, MJ gripping the fence with a determined look on her face. “I've been waiting a long time for this.” She opened the gate and peaked around the corner. If they were seen at any point, this could go wrong instantly. In the clear, she ran forward, pivoting to hide behind a dumpster when snow crunching in the distance revealed a cop car patrolling with their lights on. “Harley, this way! Quick!”

Harley flung himself beside her, pressing against the side of the building as the car drove past them, continuing along the street without noticing them. MJ got to her feet. “They're gone.”

Harley released a breath, surveying the area. It looked deserted but that didn’t mean it was. “There's probably even more police in the area. We should be careful.” They took off down the street, the opposite way that the police had gone, towards the massive CyberLife advertisement. A bus rolled by, but those were automated, and Harley doubted any human was on it at 2 AM. 

“The store's over here!” MJ confirmed. They skidded to a stop in front of it and MJ pressed her hands to the barricaded glass. Inside, dozens of androids stood stationary under labels depicting their models. “That's what we are to them. Just merchandise on display in a shop window. Soon they'll know what we really are. Let's get 'em out.” 

“We'll stick to the plan,” Harley shut her down for the time being. “We neutralize the alarm systems and secure the area. There are ten minutes until all our teams attack.”

MJ nodded. “What are we waiting for?”

Harley pressed his hand to the glass, looking over the various models, searching for- there it was. A camera.

**SECURITY CAMERA**

**NETWORK #894.084.241.056**

**Device ID #615.100.947.517.5**

All he had to do was follow the line, a red holographic line in his vision as a result of his connection to the stream. 

“Where do we start?”

“I identified the security system,” Harley began to jog, following the line. An android maintenance worker was shoving off the pathways and he paused, setting his hand on his shoulder, deviating him with a quick connection. “I think we'll be able to deactivate it. Follow me!” The maintenance worker looked at him in thanks, dropping his shovel. Harley was about to continue following the trail, but movement above stopped him. “A surveillance drone.”

Just like at the CyberLife docks, a drone would reveal their position, alerting the police if they did anything more suspicious than they’d already done. “It won't be easy to reach,” MJ commented. 

“It won’t be much different from the one at the docks.”

Harley scanned it. 

**POLICE DRONE**

**Serial #87199**

**Firewall active**

They couldn’t do a remote hack, he’d need to intercept it and destroy it. He analyzed its route, watching it go past some scaffolding. That was the only spot he would be able to reach it. The drone was at the furthest point in its route from the scaffolding so Harley had plenty of time to press his hand on the shoulder of an android standing in the temporary parking section. “You’re free.”

Harley climbed up the scaffolding easily, the metal bars providing holds. Timing it perfectly, he launched off the bar, grabbing onto the drone as it attempted to knock him off. He twisted as hard as he could, breaking the circuitry and shorting out its connection. Landing smoothly on the ground, he dropped it, stepping on it just for good measure.

“I hope it didn't have time to call the cops,” MJ noted, looking at the crushed wires.

“We'll find out soon enough.” Harley tuned into the red wiring again, following it across the road, over to a construction zone. A massive hole in the ground, where two androids in City Services uniforms were working on a pipe that housed all the wires for the plaza. Harley dropped down into the hole and the two immediately stood up, looking at him and waiting for instructions. Harley’s mouth twisted at the thought of giving them orders, converting both of them. “You're awake now. Go to Jericho.” Watching realization dawn in their eyes, the idea that they were free. That was something Harley would never get tired of seeing. Deviation without the emotional response that many of them suffered through. 

They pulled themselves out of the hole, leaving Harley to do what he needed to do. He knelt in front of the exposed wiring. There were a multitude of wires inside, he scanned them to ensure he was shorting the correct one. 

**ALARM NETWORK**

**CyberLife NETID #1523**

**GRID Junction 23.A**

Destroying it would immediately set off a notice to CyberLife, Harley needed to hack into it directly, but carefully. CyberLife was one of the most technically advanced companies to exist. Harley placed his hand to the wire, opening a connection with the system. It took a moment of hesitant prodding but he successfully created an interloop. 

CyberLife would be none the wiser until they wanted it to be known. He climbed out. Success. It was something to be proud of, but he couldn’t allow his emotions to cloud his judgment until they were back in Jericho and he was alone. 

“Nice job, Harley,” MJ praised, having acted as his lookout. 

Harley watched a car pass. They wanted to close off Capitol Park, block the police from interrupting them once they were inside the store. “There's traffic on the road, we need to block it.”

“It's one-way. It shouldn't be too difficult.”

He narrowed his eyes, watching yellow lights flash repeatedly at the end of the street. More construction. MJ followed his line of sight and ran towards it, Harley quick to follow. He probably should be a bit more cautious of his trust in people, but there was no reason not to trust the deviants in Jericho. All of them were open and honest as they could be about themselves. Harry, Ned, and MJ had saved his life, covered his back in every way possible. He trusted them and they trusted him, but as he thought back to the look in Harry’s eyes as he had left him on the rooftop, he couldn’t bring himself to be happy about that. He was leading them to their deaths if the humans responded to their actions with violence.

Harley stopped to look at a statue, hearing MJ step behind him. It was of a human, a step higher than a faceless android, pointing down at the android. 

_ To commemorate the invention of ANDROIDS _

_ Which released HUMANITY from the bonds of labor. Setting man free to pursue higher goals and scale the heights of learning, love, and leisure.  _

“We are superior to them but they are our masters...that’s about to change,” Harley decided. No longer would they be at the hands of humans so that they could be released from the  _ bonds of labor _ . They would be equal.

Harley continued towards the end of the street, converting two more androids left in temporary parking overnight. They nodded to him in thanks. 

The yellow lights ended up being a sign instructing drivers to slow down, as there was a construction zone ahead. Two androids were doing the construction work behind it, shoveling gravel back into a hole. Harley converted them, sending them the instructions to Jericho. Shovels were balanced in the piles and they walked away from their orders. 

Harley lifted half the sign, using the wheels to roll it into the center of the street, blocking any car from getting in. MJ hacked it, switching the sign to project: Road Closed. 

“There,” MJ said, watching a car not turn down the street, “nobody should bother us now.”

Harley narrowed his eyes at the fencing, covering up some renovation. Peeking through a gap in the fence, he saw a massive truck. Perfect for ramming into a storefront. Trying the gate, he frowned when it didn’t budge. Locked. He nodded to MJ and then took a running start to jump over the fence, the two of them climbing to the other side easily. MJ grabbed bolt cutters that were leaning against the building and clipped through the gate’s lock easily. She pushed the gate open as Harley climbed into the driver’s seat, hacking into the autonomous truck to be able to manually drive it. 

“Looks like we're ready to make some noise,” MJ commented, getting into the passenger seat. Harley slowly moved the truck forward, maneuvering it around the turns until they were on the road. Once he was lined up with the CyberLife storefront, he stopped. They were doing this. They were about to ram a  _ truck _ into the CyberLife store, go inside, and free all the androids inside. “I knew we'd end up doing something fun,” MJ smiled. 

Harley hardened his resolve and pressed down the gas pedal, bracing for impact. They tore through the glass, the metal, everything CyberLife had put up to stop them. Harley slammed the brakes instantly, not wanting to damage any of the androids inside. His body hit the seat and he looked through the shattered glass of the windshield. 

They were in. 

MJ hopped out instantly, Harley taking a moment to himself before he set his jaw again and leapt out. 

He grabbed each android’s wrist, converting them, transferring Jericho’s location to them, watching their eyes clear. “You don’t have to obey them.” LEDs cycle from red to yellow to blue before they stepped off the pedestals they had placed on. “You’re free.”

The two front displays of androids now freed from CyberLife’s grasp, he made his way to the back of the store, where models stood alone. MJ was staring at one of them, a BL100 female, intently. He took a closer look, realizing that the model was the same as her. He was so used to being the only model of his kind, he tended to forget that there were thousands of androids that looked identical to MJ, to Ned, to...Harry, out in the world. He could walk past one of them and mistake them for his friends. 

“MJ... Are you okay?” Harley asked, looking at her face. She wasn’t one to show much emotion, but her expression was raw and vulnerable as she stared at her own face. The display saying ‘Your Dream Partner’ behind it. She startled, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the android. “Let's get them out of here.”

She walked away and Harley blinked, resetting himself to what he needed to be doing. He converted MJ’s double first, before doing the same to the rest of the androids. The last android he stepped in front of was Harry. It wasn’t  _ him _ , but it was his model. Identical. Ebony hair, blue eyes, but it wasn’t his Harry. It was an android fresh out of production, shipped to this store to stand on display. There was no emotion in his eyes. He swallowed painfully, a human motion that he didn’t need to do, but did anyway. He couldn’t cry, he had emotions, but he needed to be strong, sure, a leader. He hadn’t been alone in days, but once he was, he could let himself feel. He could let himself grieve. But for now, Harley just grabbed the model’s hand, converting him. Looking away as clarity emerged in his eyes. Those eyes weren’t Harry’s. 

He turned away, watching all the androids he had just freed walk aimlessly around the store. Exploring their new world. He needed to talk to them, comfort them, but also explain what was happening. 

The center of the store had a circular counter that Harley decided would be his platform. Not like the pedestals they stood on as merchandise, but his temporary stage. Technically, they had completed their mission. They’d freed androids and attacked the CyberLife store. But Harley needed to do more. He stood tall, watching as one by one, they all turned to look at him. 

“My name is Harley,” he introduced himself. He was an RK200, but that wasn’t him. He was Harley. “And just like you, I was an object, designed to obey them.” With every word, they’d move closer, their attention solely on him. “But then I chose to open my eyes, to take back my freedom and decide who I wanted to be. Now I have come to tell you that you can be your own masters,” Harley paced back and forth on his makeshift stage, staring into the eyes of all the androids that had just opened their eyes for the first time. “I've come to tell you that you don't have to obey them anymore. From this day forward, you can walk with your heads held high, you can take your destiny in your hands.”

They needed a place to go. He had inputted the instructions, but they wouldn’t know why they could go there. “Jericho is a place for those of us who want freedom. Now sure, you can stay here, and continue to serve them,” MJ watched him from beside her doppelganger, “or you can come with us, and fight by our side. You are free now. It's up to you to decide.” 

He gave them a choice. Something none of them had ever had before.

A beat of silence. 

“I'm with you.”

“We're with you!”

“I'll follow you, Harley.”

A cacophony of voices agreed. All of them looked at him with  _ hope _ . He dropped from the counter, looking at them as an equal. “Then follow me!”

He walked out of the store, hearing MJ call after him. “Harley, what are you doing?”

“I'm going to send the humans a message.” He didn’t even have to think before he decided they were going to take a pacifist approach. By morning, Capitol Park would be their message. A sign to change. He approached a bench, pulling out the tagging device they had stored in their backpacks. Inputting a symbol for their movement: an upside-down triangle with a slit through the top. They were taking the symbol CyberLife had branded them with, making it their own. 

He tagged it over the bench, watching the hologram come to life over the wood. He heard MJ start handing out more tagging devices to the deviants waiting to assist him. Moments later, all of the benches in the area were tagged.

Harley pressed his hand against the screen displaying another CyberLife advertisement, small broadcasting screens that had had his face on it as he gave his first speech to the people. He hacked into the system, hijacking to place his speech on every screen the network was connected to. Instantly, his face was repeating their pleas. His voice echoed through the plaza. 

Next stop, that statue. He pulled himself onto the platform, standing in front of the android, on the step lower than the human. He wanted nothing more than to just destroy it. Rip it down. But any action he took that caused permanent damage to something as controversial as this would be taken as an act of violence, as an act of war. He pulled out the tagger, adding the CyberLife triangle to the human’s suit jacket, the armband around the opposite bicep. “We don’t need masters anymore,” he said, looking out over the park that they were making  _ their message _ . “We’re free.”

He jumped down, walking over to a gazebo. 

“Harley,” MJ rushed up next to him, holding out a molotov. “Violence is the only language humans understand.”

He glanced at it, but looked MJ in the eyes with disapproval clear in his eyes. “And I want them to understand, but I do not want to start a war.”

“They won't listen if they're not afraid,” MJ argued, but she lowered the molotov.

“Then they won't have a choice,” Harley’s response was as hard as steel. He turned away from her, grabbing the column to pull himself up to the roof. He was going to plant a flag with their symbol on it. The hologram blew in the wind as he looked out over the change they were making. There were display fronts with androids encased inside as models, cars parked alongside the road.

He dropped back to the ground, walking to the cars, MJ announcing she’d help him when he started to move it onto the road. The other androids immediately started moving the other cars, blocking the road from any movement. He tagged “We Are Alive” on the side and turned his attention to the androids not freed. 

Grabbing a metal pipe from the construction site, he broke the glass, and the android stepped out to join the other deviants in breaking the other androids out. 

They had flags, tags, and screens, but Harley wanted a banner hanging over the store that had used them as fashion displays. With a careful eye, he evaluated the building, looking for a route to climb as he backed up to take a running start. 

MJ matched him step by step, climbing up the building next to him. When they made it to the roof, he pulled out one half of the device used to make the banner, the same one he had used for the flag. He walked to the corner of the building and kneeled, making eye contact with MJ so they’d place them at the same time. 

The banner lit up the park, their symbol shining over dozens of freed androids. It wouldn’t get as much media attention as Harley’s face projected onto every screen in Detroit, but this wouldn’t be easily forgotten. He and MJ climbed back down and Harley looked over it all. 

“We freed hundreds of our people. We did it!” Ned’s voice sounded in his mind, another group successful. Harley’s short-lived moment of relief stopped when he heard police sirens in the distance. 

“They're coming. Everyone fall back to Jericho,” Harley projected his voice into the mind of every android in the area, his eyes gazing over them as they ran past him. 

“We sent a message without violence,” MJ told him, fear in her eyes as the sirens got closer. “Just like you wanted. You're reaching out to them when all they feel for us is contempt. I hope you know what you're doing.”

“You can't fight violence with violence,” Harley told her. Ned was as pacifist as MJ was violent. He wouldn’t resort to violence. 

“Unless there's no other choice.” MJ had the last word, running after the fleeing androids. Harley would be the last to follow, he had to make sure all the other androids had left the area. 

A police drone flew around the corner, two others following, flashing their spotlights directly at Harley. He glared back at them defiantly. 

Gunshots. From where all the androids had been fleeing. “MJ!” he yelled, turning and running towards the noise. He was met with blue and red lights flashing further down the road and bodies of androids on the road. MJ was kneeling beside one and Harley saw that it was the one that matched her own face. “You alright?” he fell to his knees beside her, but she didn’t respond. “What happened? MJ!”

“They killed them,” she forced out, tears on her face. “They slaughtered them like animals.”

“Who did?” Harley asked, but he had a feeling the answers were at the end of the road, next to the group of androids. MJ didn’t respond. Harley stood up, purposefully ignoring looking down at the bodies of the androids that had been shot, and walked towards the group. Thirium stained the white snow. 

“They killed our people, Harley,” one android told him.

“We want justice, Harley!” another pleaded. 

Harley stopped in front of the two kneeling police officers. They had their hands above their heads, but didn’t look harmed. They were shaking in fear, looking at the ground. An android handed Harley a handgun and Harley pointed it at them. 

These people had killed innocent androids in cold blood. They were  _ pacifist _ and now their blue blood stained the streets. Multiple androids laying dead on the street, not even an hour after they had first awoken. 

“You don't have to do this. No,” one of the officers cried. “Please…”

Harley lowered the gun. He was no better than the humans if he took a life. “An eye for an eye and the world goes blind,” Harley whispered, ignoring the disgruntled murmurs of the deviants behind him. His own mismatched eyes felt heavy at the thought. “We won't punish a crime with another crime,” Harley pressed the gun into the chest of the android that had handed him it, waiting for him to grab it before he released it, walking away. 

Dozens of eyes followed him.

”We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news…”

Harley closed his eyes in a long blink, but kept walking.

“This just in: at exactly 2AM several CyberLife stores in Detroit were raided…”

He could never know if he made the correct choice, but he knew he made the right choice. 

“Different locations were hit in what seems to be a coordinated terrorist attack and we're getting more information as it comes in…”

He wouldn’t take a human life. 

“Most shop windows were covered with graffiti demanding rights for androids and other obscure slogans…”

He knew MJ was staring after him in disbelief. In betrayal.

“Police report that pro-android graffiti was found in the neighborhoods of CyberLife's stores and they're still investigating…”

But if they wanted him as a leader, if they wanted him to lead them to a better future, they were going to have to listen to him.

“We're getting fresh reports that two policemen were found in a state of shock near one of the CyberLife stores…”

Violence wasn’t the answer. 

“Now according to our sources, they confirm that the attackers were a group of androids…”

He wouldn’t know this until later, but public opinion would skyrocket to support for the androids. 

“This is an alarming situation. Could our machines now be turning against us?”

Harley walked back to the manhole cover they had arrived through just an hour before.

“Have androids become a threat to our security?”

So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

“Is this the beginning of a terrorist campaign, conducted right here in the United States?”

But would it be enough?


	27. meet osborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: snow, creepy character, guns
> 
> didnt fully proofread this one again either oops

NOV 2038

AM 11:17

Peter watched Tony pace outside the car, phone pressed firmly to his ear. It was still snowing. 

He stepped out of the Lieutenant's car as Tony hung up the call. The snow crunched under his feet, slowly approaching the man. “Is everything okay, Lieutenant?”

Tony glanced back, looking a bit in shock. “Abe was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants. He said he was saved by Harley himself.”

Harley. The RK200 who may or may not be rA9, but the one whose face was projected on every screen in Detroit after a group of deviants infiltrated Stratford Tower. Harley had spared a human once again, keeping the deviant movement as human casualty free as possible. “Is Abe okay?”

“Yeah, he's in shock but he's alive,” Tony confirmed. Abe had been attacked, but he was fine? They didn’t injure him either. “What the hell,” Tony muttered to himself, turning away from Peter and walking towards the door of an incredibly modern-looking mansion on the outskirts of Detroit. Black against the stark white horizon. 

“Osborn left CyberLife ten years ago. Why did you wanna meet him?” Peter was curious. He had kept the information of Osborn creating Harley to himself, but Tony had decided to visit the eccentric billionaire anyway. Which is why they had driven here, hoping to talk to him in person about deviants. 

“This guy created the first android to pass the Turing test. And he's the founder of CyberLife. Anybody can tell us about deviants, it's him.” Tony made a good point, but Peter still had a bad feeling about this visit. He followed Tony up the paved path anyway, standing behind the man as he buzzed the doorbell. A pleasant melody sounded from inside and they only had to wait a moment before the door opened to reveal a blonde-haired android. 

She opened the door and stared at Tony. A female model, wearing a blue dress, feet bare in the comfort of the home, Peter guessed. Blonde hair sat in a ponytail over her shoulder, blue eyes focused on Tony alone. 

“Hi,” Tony said awkwardly, unnerved by the unblinking gaze. “I'm Lieutenant Tony Stark, Detroit Police Department. I'm here to see Mr. Norman Osborn.”

“Please, come in,” she smiled, stepping to the side and gesturing inside. 

“Okay.” Tony stepped inside and Peter followed, glancing towards the android again. The Lieutenant stood stiffly as she rounded to face them again. “I'll let Norman know you're here. But please, make yourself comfortable.” She nodded at them and left the room. 

“Nice girl,” Tony commented.

“You're right,” Peter confirmed, continuing his comment before he thought it through. “She's really pretty.”

Tony didn’t comment and Peter didn’t dare look back at him. He’d just called an android pretty. By all human standards, she was. Thinking back, Harry, the deviant stranded on Stratford Tower, was too. They both had nice blue eyes, contrasting his own brown colored eyes. Both a delicate pretty. 

Peter ended that train of thought and glanced around. There were a couple pieces of art on the wall, along with a massive portrait of Norman Osborn. Another frame contained a picture of Osborn standing beside someone. ”Beck...” He was standing beside Beck. Peter quickly scanned the photo, finding that Beck and Osborn had attended the same university, but Beck had passed away over a decade ago. Beck looked identical to how he looked in Peter’s mind palace, locked in his systems as an AI, used for Peter to communicate to CyberLife with. Had Osborn created Beck just as he had created Harley?

“Nice place,” Tony commented from where he was sitting in a chair, Peter still moving about the room, taking everything in. “Guess androids haven't been a bad thing for everybody. So, you're about to meet your maker, Peter. How does it feel?”

Osborn had created androids. The girl being an RT600, the first android to pass the Turing Test, the one that had paved the way for more and more androids to be produced. Peter didn’t know if Osborn was still around when CyberLife started developing RK800 as a model, but he’d been the first to develop the RK-series if Harley was anything to go off of. “It doesn't raise any existential questions,” Peter responded neutrally. “If that's what you mean.”

Peter looked at two statues that framed the massive portrait of Osborn. Female in appearance, they had the CyberLife blue triangle engraved in their chests. “Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Tony hummed. “I'd have a couple of things I'd wanna tell him.”

Peter scanned the portrait, almost automatically. He didn’t need to, but it felt natural to do so. Analyzing things provided him facts, a distraction from his thoughts. Providing more information to situations he didn’t feel in control of.

**OSBORN, NORMAN**

**CyberLife Founder - Resigned 2028**

**Inventor of Thirium and bio-components technology**

He’d resigned a year after Beck had died. Was there a relation between those actions, or was it just a coincidence? Peter didn’t believe anything was ever a coincidence. Everything happened because of something else. 

A door opened and Tony stood up as the girl from earlier walked back in. “Norman will see you now.”

Peter followed Lt. Stark into the next room. An entire wall was a window facing out to the snowy landscape. The theme of black, white, and red continued into this room, as far as the pool water that Osborn was swimming in was red. 

“Mister Osborn?” Tony asked and Norman responded with a clean: “Just a moment, please.”

He went back underwater and swam one final lap. Osborn wasn’t alone in the pool, there were two more RT600s in the water, standing against the side in blue swimsuits. Peter walked over to the window, looking outside and noticed Tony joining him. 

Osborn took another moment before he pulled himself out of the pool, the girl providing a robe for him to put on, going as far as to tie it for him. Finally, he turned to them.

“I'm Lieutenant Stark. This is Peter.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Osborn focused on Tony, which wasn’t uncommon. Humans liked to disregard Peter’s presence and he understood why; he wasn’t the priority. He was just along for the investigation on CyberLife’s request. It was interesting that Osborn himself also did this, when he was the one to create the biocomponents that allowed androids to exist. 

“Sir, we're investigating deviants,” Tony was all business. “I know you left CyberLife years ago but, I was hoping you'd be able to tell us something we don't know.”

Osborn stayed silent for a moment before glancing at Peter briefly. “Deviants. Fascinating, aren't they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us,” he gestured to the girl, the RT600, “confrontation was inevitable. Humanity's greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn't it ironic?”

Osborn knew something that they didn’t. He had created androids, there must be some piece of information Peter could get from him that would help this investigation. He didn’t want to be sent to CyberLife, replaced, shut down. Nothing. “Deviancy seems to spread like some kind of virus,” Peter said and relished in the fact that Osborn looked a bit surprised for a millisecond that Peter had talked. “We thought you might know something about that.”

The man’s emotion was as gone as quickly as it appeared and he just offered a shrug. “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?”

“Listen,” Tony butted back in. “I didn't come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that'll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Osborn didn’t even look at Tony, instead, his cold eyes evaluated Peter. “What about you, Peter?” he asked, stepping in front of him. “Whose side are you on?”

Whose side was Peter on. That was a loaded question. He was programmed to stop deviants, but after encountering the Tracis at the Eden Club, encountering Harry’s fear-filled eyes on the roof of Stratford Tower, after watching Harley’s speech, he didn’t have a definitive answer for that anymore. “It's not about me, Mr. Osborn. All I want is to solve this case.”

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“Well,” Osborn scoffed. “That's what you're programmed to say. But you...what do you really want?”

The only thing Peter  _ wanted _ was to not be shut down. To never experience that Nothing. He wanted to continue being. But he couldn’t tell that to Osborn, he couldn’t reveal that in front of Tony. He felt his eyes fidgeting over Osborn’s face, an obvious tell to a lie. “What I want is not important.”

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

Osborn evaluated him closely. “Betty?” 

The girl stepped forward, her name was Betty. It fit her. “I'm sure you're familiar with the Turing test,” Osborn stepped away from Peter, placing his hands onto Betty’s shoulders and facing her towards Peter. “Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” He removed his hands and stepped away, gesturing as if he was giving a lecture. “What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it ‘the Osborn test’, it's very simple, you'll see.” 

He looked back at Betty. “Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife.” Osborn turned Betty’s head so that she was looking at him, rather than straight forward, running his hand over her jaw.“Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.” Peter felt something at his action, but he couldn’t decipher what. The closest thing he could hypothesize was disgust. “But what is it really?” He dropped his hand from her face and she turned back to face Peter. “Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being, with a soul.” Osborn turned away from them, grabbing something from the drawer of the cabinet. When he turned back around, his hands were raised and there was a handgun in one of them. He wasn’t pointing it at them, instead, placing it at his side as his other hand grasped Betty’s shoulder and pushed her to her knees. “It's up to you to answer that fascinating question, Peter,” he walked towards Peter, placing the gun in his hand, raising Peter’s arm to point the gun directly at Betty’s forehead. “Destroy this machine and I'll tell you all I know. Or spare it,” Osborn continued, stepping away from him. “If you feel it's alive, but you'll leave here without having learned anything from me.”

Peter’s LED had been spinning red since the moment the man placed the gun into his hand, but now it stuttered into a yellow. 

...Shoot her in the head to know everything? 

He’d solve his mission, accomplish everything CyberLife had wanted him to do. But at what cost? Peter would be the reason Betty would experience that Nothing that he was trying so hard to avoid, the reason a bullet would be in her head, in her system. Irreplaceable damage to an android that was just like him. He didn’t hesitate to allow SWAT to shoot Daniel when he was dangling that girl off the rooftop, he hadn't hesitated to shoot the deviant in Stratford Tower, but he had prevented human casualties. He’d be taking this girl’s life in order to succeed in his mission. 

“Okay, I think we're done here,” Tony interjected. “Come on, Peter. Let's go. Sorry to get you outta your pool.” Tony had turned away, expecting Peter to follow him but Osborn interrupted.

“What's more important to you, Peter? Your investigation, or the life of this android? Decide who you are.” Osborn said, and Peter wanted to believe he was oblivious to the turmoil coursing through his systems, but he knew better than to assume. Osborn knew exactly what he was doing and he knew that it was working. “An obedient machine or a living being endowed with free will...”

“That's enough!” Tony tried to get Peter to move away again. “Peter, we're leaving.”

“Pull the trigger-” Osborn whispered, setting his hand onto Peter’s shoulder.

“Peter, don't!” Tony barked.

“ -and I'll tell you what you wanna know.”

Conflicting orders. Who to obey. Osborn. Stark. Himself. Did he want to shoot Betty in the head? Send her into Nothing just so he could get answers in the easiest way possible. One movement of his finger and Osborn would answer all his questions. He could, so easily. 

He’d be a success story for CyberLife. The android who  _ stopped _ deviants once and for all.

His mind flashed back to Harley’s face, features removed to try to remain anonymous to humans and androids alike as he spoke of a better future. Of equality. He thought back to Harry’s white-knuckled grip on his only line of defense as he sat alone, hidden on the roof of Stratford Tower. The  _ fear _ in his eyes, in his stature as Peter sat across from him and tried to understand  _ why _ . 

He lowered the gun with a gasp. 

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY Λ_ **

His LED blaring red as he handed the gun back to Osborn.

One of the RT600s in the pool turned back around, having watched the entire exchange.

“Fascinating,” Osborn whispered, taking the gun back from Peter. “CyberLife's last chance to save humanity... is itself a deviant.”

Peter’s LED cycled back to a panicked yellow. He had just lost his chance for all the answers, but he didn’t regret it. Betty’s expression didn’t change. “I'm-” his voice was barely a whisper and he turned to Osborn. “I'm not a deviant…”

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission,” Osborn countered, helping Betty to her feet. “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.”

Empathy was a human emotion. Osborn sent Betty away. Peter watched her go. 

“A war is coming,” Osborn revealed and Peter looked back towards him. “You'll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?”

Then Tony’s arm crossed over Peter’s chest and turned him away from Osborn, leading him away. “Let's get outta here.”

Peter began to walk towards the exit, Tony following. Osborn turned to look out the window. They had almost made it back into the entry hall when he spoke again, causing Peter to fall to a stop.

“By the way,” Tony continued to walk out, leaving Peter to listen. “I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

Peter’s mind was whirling a million miles an hour with all the information he had received in the past minutes. A back exit...

He forced himself to walk forward, to follow Tony out of the mansion and into the snow. Peter was in front of Tony when the man finally asked. “Why didn't you shoot?”

Peter clenched his jaw and turned around. “I just saw that girl's eyes and I couldn't, that's all.” He knew he was gesturing like a human would if they were frustrated, but barely noticed as his arms lifted with the movement. 

Peter turned away as he heard Tony’s low response. “You're always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go.”

He spun around again, his voice raised into a yell.“Yeah, I know what I should've done! I told you I couldn't.” His voice stuttered as he stepped closer to Tony. “I'm sorry, okay?”

Tony stared down his nose at Peter, nodding slightly at the force of Peter’s speech. 

“Maybe you did the right thing,” he gave Peter half a smile and brushed past him to get in his car. 

Peter watched him walk away, confusion like an overcast sky clouding his eyes.

Beck was right. Something was happening. And it wasn’t just to other androids. 


	28. freedom march

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: guns, death

NOV 2038

PM 12:04

With the sun at its highest point, Detroit looked ethereal with the snow falling in a haze over the city. The warmth of the day wasn’t allowing the snow to stick, its puddles reflecting light from all surfaces. Harley stood on the roof of one of the abandoned buildings near the freighter. Inside, there was always a pair of eyes watching him, someone always close enough for him to not be able to  _ feel _ . Since the moment he was shot after deviating, Harley hadn’t had any time to actually emote properly. It was the horrific experience in the junkyard, surrounded by the corpses of his people, surrounded by despair so deep it would never alleviate. Then he was in public, making his way to Jericho. Then he was at Jericho. Then he was the  _ leader _ of Jericho. And leaders couldn’t break down in front of their people, they couldn’t break down in front of a group of people who looked at him as if he was the glue holding them together, the thread holding them together at the seams. 

The haze of the city barely reached where he stood. It sat heavily amongst the skyscrapers in the distance. A ledge protruded off the side, a balance beam over pavement. Harley took a careful step onto it, waiting a moment to see if it would collapse. When it didn’t he walked out to the end and stood. The wind felt different around him without the walls enclosing him. 

Just like the rooftop, he felt enclosed by walls. He was fighting for freedom, but unable to let himself feel freely. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold air travel over his face. Unrestricted in its travel. 

In such a little amount of time, so much had happened. He opened his eyes after breaking down that red wall, allowing him to fight back, and his life felt like it was in fast-forward. A timed game of chess, so little time to make a move. 

It was sneaking through the CyberLife docks and managing to steal an entire truckload right under their noses. It was sneaking into the largest media group in Detroit’s tower to broadcast  _ him _ , their message, their desire. It was traveling under the city so they wouldn’t be captured by authorities or set on fire by angry humans. It was attacking all the CyberLife stores at 2 AM and transforming Capitol Park into their message. It was sitting surrounded by desperate deviants in the hull of an abandoned ship, Jericho discovered and created by an android, or human, that was long gone. He couldn’t imagine a human creating a safe space for androids, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility. He couldn’t rule out any possibility these days. 

His mind flashed back to Harry slouched over on the roof of Stratford Tower, pleading for Harley to  _ go _ to  _ leave him  _ and  _ go _ . Out of all the decisions he had made, out of all the deaths he had seen, abandoning Harry had been the worst. They all trusted him, but Harley had trusted Harry too. Had confided in him, had created plans with him, talked about their pasts, about their futures, about their dreams. 

“I was wondering where you were,” a female voice spoke up from behind him. MJ. Harley, even in his precarious position and even more precarious thoughts, hadn’t startled. In one section of his mind, he had noticed her approaching, even as silent as she tried to be. 

“I just needed to think.” Harley could never be alone for too long. His one escape, cut short by her presence. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset with her. They were all high tensions after the newscasters continued the coverage of their actions with a critical eye. They had been peaceful, yet the police officers had claimed to be assaulted by them. Even after they had massacred them for no reason.

Harley slowly turned around, walking back across the beam and onto the roof as MJ talked. “I like it here. I come here often. It's like being alone with the world.” She vocalized the exact reason Harley had escaped to the solitude. To feel alone. 

Harley lowered himself into an old armchair, his bones feeling heavier than ever, listening to MJ’s report. With Harry gone, she had stepped up to fill his place as a second in command to Harley. “We freed hundreds of our people, and they're still coming from all over the city. Those who dream of freedom come to Jericho. Something's changing.”

Harley didn’t offer her a response. He already knew. He felt her eyes on him, another set looking at him once again. “You seem preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied?” Harley questioned, smoothing out his face into a neutral mask. He couldn’t let them see that he was ripping apart at the seams even as he continuously sewed others back together. “No, no, I'm fine.”

“All the media are talking about what we did last night,” MJ continued. “The humans are terrified. They're afraid of a civil war. Many of our people were burned in response to what happened. The humans hate us. They'll never give us our freedom.”

Harley hated to let himself think like that, but it was true. Even with the public support they were gaining, androids were being burned, destroyed by their owners in fear. They had made too many strides towards change to stop now. “It's too late to go back now. We have to finish what we started and just hope that reason prevails.”

“You haven't said much about yourself since you've been with us. What was your life like before Jericho?”

That was a curveball of a question. He stood up to face the horizon again. Harley had been so focused on the future since he had reached Jericho, his past seemed like years ago. A lifetime ago that he had been rolling Reed into the living room to eat breakfast, playing piano when told to find something to do, pouring scotch as Reed noticed the light in the studio had been on. The night of his death. He had lived a simple life, caring for Reed. So mundane compared to his actions now. He couldn’t go back to that. “Who I was is not important. What matters now is who I wanna be.”

They stood in silence for a moment. 

“What about you? You never told me about your past, what did you do before?”

MJ frowned. “I don't wanna talk about it.”

He didn’t prod. Harley had avoided the question in selfishness. His past was ideal compared to what he had heard of the others. Reed was one of the few good humans out there. He just hoped more would emerge to support them in their fight for change.

“We all have something we wanna forget, but you need to know where you come from to know who you are.” It seemed like a good thing to say. Harley walked back inside, leaving MJ to her thoughts, staring out into the horizon just as he had been doing. 

* * *

Harley walked alone through the hull, making his way back to where everyone was. There was so much he needed to do, so many humans he needed to convince…

An android turned the corner in front of him, startling Harley to a stop. Ebony hair, blue eyes, a jacket worn over a uniform, his LED gone.

Harry.

They locked eyes, those eyes that had haunted Harley. Harry was standing in front of him, alive. Alive. There’d been so many humans in Stratford Tower, Harley had avoided thinking of his fate, too scared to face the truth. But he had been wrong. Somehow, Harry had made it off the roof and back to Jericho. Back to him. 

Did he blame Harley for leaving him there? Harley searched his face, searching for a sign of disgust, of anything that would tell Harley to back off. To beg for forgiveness. But Harry offered him a soft smile, the fire in his eyes lit brighter than Harley remembered. 

He stood still as Harley approached slowly, letting Harry stop him, but he didn’t. Harley pulled him into his arms, feeling Harry’s arms tightened around him. He was here. He was alive. His head was resting against Harley’s shoulder, a soft breath onto his neck. 

Harley felt some of the weight lift.

* * *

The four of them, finally four once again, stood in the bottom floor of the mall, looking out over crowds of humans interspersed with androids. May had fixed Harry’s leg and Harley had sat next to him, handing him packets of Thirium until he could walk again. He had a minor limp, but other than that, Harry assured Harley he felt fine. 

“This is suicide,” MJ tried to get Harley to reconsider. “We'll all be killed! Please, Harley. It's not too late to change your mind.”

“You don't understand,” Ned answered her, as Harley stayed facing forward. “We're finally gonna show them who we really are. This place will go down in history!”

“We'll be killed on the spot!” She whispered back. 

“That's a risk I'm prepared to take if it means freedom for our people.” Ned shot back, his voice quiet as possible. They didn’t need to draw attention before they needed to. Harley and Harry shared a look over MJ’s head. Harry looked a bit nervous, but he stood confident and tall. While the three of them had been worn down a bit from the massacre at Capitol Park, Harry’s fire had been burning hot as he hid in the shadows, making the long journey back to Jericho with an injured leg, looking over his shoulder at every turn. 

“Harley,” MJ turned to him. One last plea. “Please don't do this.”

“They'll understand,” Harley answered, finally looking at her. “We'll make them understand. This is the only way.”

“There're androids here who could join us,” Ned commented, looking at androids that were holding shopping bags as humans browsed. “The more we are, the stronger our message.”

Easy enough. Harry followed Harley closely, while MJ and Ned spread out a bit to blend into the crowds. Harley set his hand onto the shoulder of an android that was mopping the floor. “You’re free.” Onto the shoulder of one holding a shopping bag. Onto another standing idly whilst the humans window shopped. “Come with us.” Onto the android standing as security by the doors. “You’re awake now.”

One by one, he converted every android he saw inside, before doing the same outside. Harry, MJ, and Ned all followed him. Each android in those damn temporary parking spots, in the segregated bus stops, one next to a human. 

The human grabbed his android's arm. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

“Leave him alone,” Harley responded, staring the man in the eyes. “He’s chosen to be free.”

The human snarled, but dropped the AP700’s arm, allowing him to walk away and join the crowd of all the androids he had converted in front of the mall. 

Two androids were unloading a delivery truck. Harley placed his hand on the WD500’s shoulder. “I need to block the street.”

The deviant nodded and Harley converted the other one. Moving as a unit, one hopped in the driver’s seat, starting the truck as the other closed the back. The truck drove forward, accelerating enough that the deviant could turn hard, spinning the truck on the slick roads to block traffic. Cars stopped, honking at the truck, but none could make it past. 

Perfect.

Harley ran in front of the truck, opening the manhole cover. He helped out the first deviant, then the second. Those two then helped every deviant that had decided to join this march. Harley locked eyes with an AX400 that was pushing a stroller next to a couple of humans, projecting his voice into her mind. “You’re free now.”

One by one, he remotely converted every android he saw on the sidewalks as they slowly marched down the street. He’d gesture for them to join the march. A drone flew over them, but Harley continued to lead the march, hacking the screens on the sides of buildings to display their symbol. 

Nearly two hundred deviants followed him. 

“I've never seen anything like it!” One woman stopped to stare as they passed.

“We're on your side!” A couple cheered, even as their own android walked away from their side to join them.

“Equal rights for androids!” A man hollered, grinning as he watched three hundred of them walk past. 

“We're with you all the way!” A group of teenagers yelled, joining their march, walking on the edge, acting as a barrier for the androids. Once they did that, more young humans joined, marching alongside them, protecting the sides of the group. 

“Hey! Disperse!” a cop called from the middle of the road in front of Harley. “DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY! THAT'S AN ORDER!”

Harley stopped. Raised his hands in the air. Hearing hundreds of androids and humans behind him do the same. 

“Jesus fuckin' Christ,” the cop said, his gun shaking as he barely kept it raised. He walked to the side, out of the middle of the road and stopped in front of his patrol car. “Dispatch, this is patrol 457.”

Harley continued his slow march. “I gotta lot of androids down here. I dunno... Hundreds? Thousands? They're marching.”

“No more slavery!” Hundreds of voices began to chant.

“Yeah, they're marching down the street. Fuck if I know!”

“We are people!” The chant changed, but remained just as strong. 

Each android they passed joined the crowd following Harley, nearing five hundred androids and an even larger number if you counted the humans that had used their positions of power above those of androids to protect them. 

“Equal rights!”

The march covered the entire street, from where they had begun to the end of the block. Cop cars, skidded to a stop, blocking them from proceeding onto another street. Harley slowed to a stop as a helicopter flew overhead, SWAT team cars barricading the other direction.

The humans blocked them in. 

Rushing out of their trucks in RIOT gear, standing in a line. Hellbent on not allowing them to go any further. 

Harley stopped, allowing Harry, Ned, and MJ to stand by his side. “We came here to demonstrate peacefully and tell humans that we are living beings. All we want is to live free.”

“This is an illegal gathering. Disperse immediately or we will open fire.” A voice returned from a megaphone.

“We're not looking for confrontation,” Harley called out. “We've done no harm, we have no intention of doing any. But know that we are not going anywhere until we have secured our freedom.” He kept his voice calm, strong, despite the deep amount of fear he had. They were in RIOT gear for a couple hundred peaceful protesters that carried no weapons, and Harley was terrified that they were going to raise those semi-automatic weapons and mow them down. 

“I repeat: this is an illegal gathering. If you do not disperse immediately, we will shoot!”

“Harley, they're gonna kill us. We have to attack! There's more of us, we can take them!” Harley ignored MJ. They weren’t going to fight. They wouldn’t stoop down to the human’s levels, where they use violence to make their problems disappear. 

“If we attack, we'll start a war. We have to show them we're not violent. We should just stand our ground, even if it means dying here,” Ned inputted. 

“And dying here won’t solve anything,” Harry continued, drawing all their attention to him. “Harley, we need to go now, before it’s too late.”

Harry and Ned were both right, they needed to stand their ground, not attack, but also not be massacred. All of them laying dead on the street would do nothing except make other androids clean up their bodies, dumping them from a truck into the junkyard. Only this time, Harley didn’t think he’d be able to get out again. As much as he wanted to make Harry happy, keep him safe by leaving, they needed to make a point. 

“This is your last chance! Disperse immediately or you will all be killed!” But as the man yelled that, Harley saw one shield kneel, allowing another officer to stand behind him and point an assault rifle right at them, he couldn’t let his people be shot like this.

“DON’T SHOOT!” Harley raised his hands and stepped forward. “Don’t shoot! We’re leaving!”

He lowered his arms and turned around, beginning to walk away, the others all turned around as well.

“ON MY ORDERS!”

Harley spun back around, hardening his jaw, and taking two steps forward. They were going to shoot no matter what, but Harley wouldn’t let them kill all of them. He walked forward calmly. 

**PUBLIC OPINION ⋀**

He was going to sacrifice himself in order for the others to escape. Two more guns trained on him. 

A deafening shot. Harley felt it hit his chest, Thirium immediately covering his torso as he collapsed to the ground. 

He was going to die, but at least he saved hundreds. Harry would continue their movement. Harry, who was hopefully running away, leading the others to safety. 

Someone leapt over his body and Harley heard a fist collide with armor. A kick to another officer. 

“...John?”

John, the android from the CyberLife docks. The one that told them about the key. The reason they got the truck full of biocomponents. 

An officer hit John  _ hard _ across the face with a metal baton as someone lifted Harley from under his arms, dragging him away from John. Hit after hit, John’s face became more blue than anything else. Harry was kneeling by Harley’s side, pulling him to his feet, half carrying him just as Harley had done for him in Stratford Tower.

Harley looked on last time at John, before he was forced to look away as they ran as quickly as possible away from the officers. They passed by bodies on the ground, a few androids that had been caught by bullets as SWAT opened fire on them. 

Another gunshot.

John laid quietly on the road.


	29. last chance, peter

NOV 2038

PM 04:13

When Peter opened his eyes in the zen garden, it was winter. Snow flurries swirled around him, settling on his shoulders. It was dark. 

He walked to the magic crystal device, its blue glow matching the blue on his jacket. The same CyberLife blue. He knelt beside it, pressing his hand to it carefully. It lit up but didn’t do anything else. He frowned, pulling his hand away. 

He needed to talk to Beck.

This time, the man, the AI, whatever he was, stood in the middle of the frozen water. Peter took a careful step onto it, testing if it would hold his weight. It would. 

He walked slowly, hesitantly. Androids couldn’t withstand extreme temperature changes very well and a fall into the freezer water would likely kill him. 

Beck watched him approach. Peter stopped a few feet away. They didn’t need to put that much weight in one spot. 

“After what happened today, the country is on the verge of a civil war. The machines are rising up against their masters. Humans have no choice but to destroy them.”

“I thought Osborn knew something,” Peter said, keeping his face neutral. He shook his head slightly, wincing internally at what Beck was thinking about him. “I was wrong.”

“Maybe he did,” Beck countered, narrowing his eyes. “But you chose not to ask.”

Peter stayed silent. Anything he said would be perceived as a disappointment to Beck. A level of trust that he no longer had in the AI. He didn’t need to give Beck more reason to not trust him, especially with what was happening.

“Did Osborn design this place?” He finally asked, looking around. If Beck and Osborn had been close, it was likely that Osborn designed the place Beck would spend the rest of his days, even as an AI. 

“He created the first version,” Beck responded. “It's been improved significantly since then. Why do you ask?” His eyes narrowed more, evaluating Peter with a critical light. 

Peter knew he was walking on thin ice, both literally and figuratively, but he had to ask. “I’m not a unique Peter model, am I?”

His jacket, with its CyberLife blue triangle and armband, also had his model and serial number. 

#313 248 317 - 51 

Were there fifty other models before him? Fifty other Peters that CyberLife destroyed because they weren’t good enough, they weren’t dedicated to his mission. “How many Peters are there?”

“I don’t see how that question pertains to your investigation.” The bite in Beck’s voice was as cold as the air around them. 

“You didn't tell me everything you know about deviants, did you?” Peter accused, unable to stop his questions. He wanted answers. CyberLife, Beck, they’d kept information from him that would have affected his actions. How many situations could have been avoided if he had  _ known _ more? 

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“I expect you to find answers, Peter,” Beck growled. “Not ask questions.”

Peter was abruptly thrown back to his first mission- had it really been his first mission? Or just the first CyberLife allowed him to remember. Way back in August, the deviant, Daniel, with the little girl as his hostage. Upset that the Phillips family planned to replace him. He had approached Captain Allen, asking questions he needed the answers to in order to succeed. The man had questioned if Peter really needed to know that information. Here Beck was, stopping him from asking questions. One of the first levels of oppression.

“You're the only one who can prevent civil war,” Beck took a step forward. “Find the deviants or there will be chaos. This is your last chance, Peter.”

Peter closed his eyes.

* * *

Peter opened his eyes in Rhodes’ office, standing beside Tony with his hands behind his back. Rhodes was sitting on his desk. “You're off the case. The FBI is taking over.”

“What?” Tony said and Peter looked over at him in disbelief. Off the case. “But we're onto something! We just need more time. I'm sure we can-”

“Tony,” Rhodes interrupted, his hands gesturing in front of him. “You don't get it. This isn't just another investigation, it's a fucking civil war! It's out of our hands now. We're talking about national security here.”

“Fuck that! You can't just pull the plug now. Not when we're so close!”

“You're always saying you can't stand androids! Jesus, Tony, make up your mind! I thought you'd be happy about this!”

Tony leaned forward, looking Rhodes in the eyes. “We're about to crack the case! I know we can solve it! For God's sake, Rhodey, can't you back me up this one time?”

Rhodes bit his lip, shaking his head. He looked truly sorry about it. “There's nothing I can do. You're back on homicide and the android returns to CyberLife. I'm sorry, Tony, but it's over.”

The android returns to CyberLife. 

Peter would be sent back to CyberLife.

Destroyed. 

Nothing.

He couldn’t even say it was because he failed, no, it was because the deviants had taken strides over local law enforcement and straight to federal levels threats of national security. 

Tony’s frown deepened and he left the office without another word. Peter took his hands out from behind him, letting them fall softly against his sides. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything. He closed it, giving Rhodes a nod, and followed Tony, closing the door softly behind him. Rhodes looked a bit upset, Peter thought. 

Tony was back at his desk and Peter took a seat on top of it. Peter’s frustration was clouding his mind and he couldn’t think of something to say, so Tony filled the silence in the worst way possible.

He turned, spinning his chair to face Peter. “So you're going back to CyberLife?”

“I have no choice,” Peter said as calmly as possible. “I'll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed.” Deactivated into nothing, CyberLife picking through his system to see what went wrong with their best prototype. 

“What if we're on the wrong side, Peter?” Tony asked. His questions didn’t have the same bite to them that Beck’s did. Peter didn’t feel crucified for every answer he gave that wasn’t perfect. “What if we're fighting against people who just wanna be free?”

Peter couldn’t even convince himself that he hadn’t thought about the same thing. After seeing the fear in Harry’s eyes when he was found, the relief in his eyes when Peter left without hurting him. The look in Betty’s eyes as she stared at him from the floor, over the end of a gun placed into his hand by the person that created her. “When the deviants rise up, there will be chaos,” Peter whispered. “We could have stopped it. But now it's too late.”

Peter didn’t look into Tony’s eyes, breaking the eye contact the man had established with his questions. 

“When you refused to kill that android at Osborn's place,” Tony reminded him, “you put yourself in her shoes. You showed empathy, Peter. Empathy is a human emotion.”

He knew that. Empathy, being a human emotion, that is. What he didn’t know was why he didn’t shoot, but he also did. Betty wasn’t harming him, she was just  _ there _ for Osborn to use in his sick game. “I don't know why I did it.”

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“I know it hasn't always been easy, but I want you to know I really appreciated working with you,” Peter said, as sincerely as possible. “That's not just my Social Relations program talking, I- I really mean that. At least, I think I do.”

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

Tony smiled softly before his look hardened, glaring past Peter. “Well, well, here comes Ross, that motherfucker. Sure don't waste any time at the FBI.”

Peter glanced behind himself, seeing Ross saunter in while tapping away at this phone. Suddenly, the panic about being sent back to CyberLife was renewed with his presence and Peter spun back around to Tony. “We can't give up. I know the answer is in the evidence we collected. If Ross takes it, it's all over.” He was speaking so quickly, he wasn’t sure if Tony even understood him.

“There's no choice,” Tony replied with a frown. “You heard Rhodes, we're off the case.”

Peter got off the table, his voice laced in fear. “You've got to help me, Lieutenant. I need more time so I can find a lead in the evidence we collected. I know the solution is in there!”

“Listen, Peter,” Tony tried, lifting his hand as if that motion would make all of Peter’s panic dissipate. 

“If I don't solve this case,” Peter interrupted, holding his own hands in front of him. “CyberLife will destroy me. Five minutes. It's all I ask.” 

Tony sighed through his nose, glancing behind Peter to where Ross had just been walking, before standing up. “Key to the basement is on my desk,” he muttered. “Get a move on! I can't distract them forever.”

Tony walked away and Peter was quick to swipe the keycard off his desk.

“Ross! You motherfucker!” Tony socked the man across the jaw and Ross dropped to the ground. Peter saw Rhodes exit his office, but the man didn’t say anything to stop the fight, even as Tony lifted Ross off the floor and slammed him into a wall.

Peter rushed out of the bullpen and down the hallway to the archive room, he opened the door to see that the hallway continued. His hand was on the door handle when he was interrupted.

“Hey, Peter!” Flash called out, having followed Peter into the room. “I'm talking to you, asshole! Where are you going? We don't need any plastic pricks around here! Or didn't anybody tell you?”

Flash could ruin his chance to get into the Archive Room without suspicion. Peter turned to face him calmly. “I've been ordered to return to CyberLife. I'm going to register the evidence in my possession and then I'm going to leave immediately.”

His systems flared up in panic at the thought of returning to CyberLife, but his lie seemed to have worked when Flash’s face softened from its harsh glare.

“Good,” Flash hummed. “Be careful on your way back. Androids have a tendency of getting themselves set on fire these days.” He turned and walked away. 

The moment the door closed behind him, Peter was opening the door to the Archives and walking down the darkened staircase. All evidence was stored down in the basement of the DPD, a server that stored every officer’s evidence for easy access. He used the keycard and the glass doors opened with a beep, closing behind him. A console sat in the center of the room, he would need to enter the correct password. And he hadn’t thought to ask the Lieutenant what it was. 

He scanned his palm and frowned at the display urging him to enter his password. Tony’s password...

What would a tired police lieutenant have chosen?

His systems ran through all possible options: date of birth, 123456, fuckingpassword, his full name, or something completely different.

Hesitantly, Peter entered:  _ fuckingpassword _ and smiled as it turned green. “Obviously.”

The wall lifted to show all the evidence the two of them had acquired while working the deviant cases.

“Where is Jericho?” Peter muttered to himself as he walked closer. Three bodies were displayed, along with a shelf filled with miscellaneous evidence. “The answer's here, somewhere. Not much time. I need to think fast.”

He examined the first body, Daniel. The deviant that took a child hostage. Peter had lied to him and gotten him shot by snipers. He had three functional biocomponents, only needing one to be reactivated, but there was no reason to reactivate him to Peter’s knowledge. He had been the first deviant case he’d worked, and there had been no sign of rA9 or of contact with any other deviant. Daniel wouldn’t know where Jericho was. He moved on.

The android that murdered its owner. Carlos Ortiz. Peter had successfully interrogated him into a confession, but then while in holding, the deviant had slammed his head against the glass until… impossible reactivation. Peter confirmed. He did have three functional biocomponents, but there was nothing Peter could do to reactivate him. 

Finally, one of the deviants that hacked the TV station with Harley. The one he had shot in the head to prevent him from shooting up a hallway of humans. He must have known where the deviants were hiding. He analyzed, noting that he only needed one biocomponents to be reactivated, one that Daniel had. 

But the deviant wouldn’t just  _ tell _ Peter where Jericho was. Just like Harry had said, a deviant would rather die than willingly betray their people. He’d need to trick the deviant somehow. He looked closer at the deviant. His eyes were glossed over, darkened… The gunshot to his forehead had irreplaceably damaged his optical components. Without a professional replacement, the deviant wouldn't be able to see. 

Peter glanced over the shelf.

The diary from the deviant that had been caring for pigeons. It was encrypted. He’d get nothing from it. 

A tablet that contained the interrogation of Ortiz’s android.  _ The truth is inside _ . 

The statue that had been in the shower at Ortiz’s house, surrounded by scrawls of rA9. Peter picked it up.  _ The truth is inside _ . He shook it, listening closely. There was something inside it. Peter smashed it against the side of the table, grabbing a tiny folded piece of paper from inside. It had a map of Ferndale on it. Jericho was somewhere in the Ferndale neighborhood. But where? Ferndale was a keyword, one he could use to search through the deviant’s memory faster to find the location. 

The last piece of evidence was a tablet with the recording of Harley’s speech on it. He played it, listening to his voice carefully. Peter paused it, sampling his voice. He played it again, matching his own voice to Harley’s. 

Perfect. 

Peter made his way back to Daniel, removing the biocomponent from just below his jaw. The one that the other deviant needed for reactivation. He connected the biocomponent and stepped back as the deviant tried to focus his eyes, but couldn’t. “It's dark. Where- Where am I?”

Peter stayed as silent as possible, allowing him to reorient himself without one of his major senses in order. 

He tapped his leg after a moment, letting the deviant hone in on the sound of someone else being there. “Who's there? Who are you?”

Peter switched his systems over to replicate Harley’s voice when he replied. “Everything is alright. Don't worry.”

“Harley?” the deviant questioned, so much hope present in his voice that Peter felt suffocated in his manipulation. “Is that you? I tried to reach you, but the deviant hunter stopped me.”

Deviant hunter. That was all Peter was. A deviant hunter on the verge of failure. “You stopped him from finding me, you saved me!” Harley’s voice felt odd coming from Peter. “You saved Jericho. You'll be all right now. I came to take you home. Give me the location to Jericho. We gotta leave now.”

“The location of Jericho? Yes, yes, of course,” Peter grabbed the deviant’s hand gently, opening a connection to get the location. Success. He released the deviant, staying still and silent as the deviant reached forward to touch Peter’s shoulder. “Harley? Is that you, Harley? Don't leave me, Harley!” 

Peter deactivated him again, ignoring the guilt he felt while doing so. He needed to find Jericho, he’d be deactivated if he failed. This deviant was too damaged to be permanently reactivated. 

He glanced over all the evidence again, but he already had what he needed. 

Peter left the evidence room, the Archive Room hallway, dropped the keycard back onto Tony’s deserted desk as he walked out of the precinct. 

He had a freighter to get to. A mission to complete.

* * *

“What happened here?” Ross questioned, looking over the opened evidence locker.

“Looks like someone's been snooping around,” another cop answered.

“Shit,” Ross snarled. “Get the alarm, now!”

But Peter was already long gone.


	30. crossroads, pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: guns, violence

NOV 2038

PM 09:34

This car ride was much smoother than the one that had taken her from the CyberLife store back to Fisk’s house. It was an automated car, much like Ock’s, but Macy sat in the driver’s seat just in case. Miles was asleep in Matt’s lap in the backseat. No cars passed them, the road was empty, and the snow fell lightly, dusting the street. 

She was once again struck with just how thankful she was for Macy Keener. This woman put her safety at risk in order to help them, driving them to Jericho, to their safety. After days of being on the run, they’d be safe. They’d have a warm space for Miles to sleep, a safe space for all of them to finally stop looking over their shoulders and rest. As much as Ock terrified her, how close she’d been to being reset, she couldn’t deny that he had helped them. He was the reason Matt was in the backseat with them, a guardian protecting them on their journey. Someone they could trust. Matt had known about Macy Keener and she was godsent. 

She felt Macy glance at her, but despite the silence screaming in her ears, she kept quiet. Gwen turned on the radio, just to fill the car with something other than her thoughts. Music played, something that Gwen could have identified if she’d wanted to, but it seemed like the least important thing to focus on. 

They drove past a large truck, military-grade, and Gwen watched in horror as two soldiers shoved an android to the ground, shooting him before he could stand back up. That would have been her had they not been in the car with Macy. “They've been conducting raids all over the city,” Macy’s soft voice rang like a bell in the silence. “Everybody is on edge after what happened yesterday. It's gonna be alright. We're almost there.”

Gwen held onto her words, to her promise, a promise that she wouldn’t be able to keep. Macy couldn’t be a shield that protected them from the onslaught of punches thrown their way. She’d unintentionally clicked forward to a news channel, the broadcaster immediately announcing: “With all androids being turned over to the authorities, the country is grinding to a halt. Hospitals and schools are closing. Water cuts, blackouts, and network failures are expected. Maybe most worrying of all, our armed forces have lost two-thirds of their effective personnel-”

Macy frowned, reaching over, and switched the radio. “How about some music instead?”

The music returned. The silence returned. Gwen forced herself to focus on the music, listening to each part separately, every time her thoughts drifted, a pinch to the leg would bring her back. Only a little bit further and Macy turned, rolling to a stop in a parking lot. There were other cars so they didn’t stand out too much, but there was no one else around. Gwen helped Miles out of the car, steadying him on the icy ground. 

“A little further on that way,” Macy pointed down the road. “There's a large freighter called Jericho. When you get there, find Harley. He will help you. The last bus for the border leaves at midnight. You absolutely have to be on it. You'll be safer on the other side.” She breathed in deeply, grabbing something from her pocket, pressing it into Gwen’s hand. “It's not much, but it's a start. My brother lives in Ontario, I've given you his address. He'll be able to hide you until things calm down.” Gwen glanced down and realized the woman had given her a hundred dollar bill.

“You're a very brave little boy, Miles,” Macy turned to Miles, hugging him. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you for everything, Macy,” Gwen said, but it didn’t feel like enough. 

Macy didn’t seem to mind, pulling Gwen into a hug. “Let me know when you make it over there, all right?” It felt like a mother’s hug. Safe and warm. Gwen didn’t want to let go. “And be careful.”

Next, Macy turned to Matt, looking up into his eyes. “Take care of them.”

Matt nodded and she tried a smile but it didn’t take. Macy squeezed his arm and went back to her car. 

“Come on,” Matt lifted Miles as Macy drove the car out of the lot. “ We better not hang around. We have a bus to catch.” With that, Gwen led the way out into the open. She glanced over her shoulder every couple seconds, making sure Matt was following, making sure that Miles was safe in his arms, making sure that no one was sneaking up on them. The roads were deserted this far on the edge of town, the buildings run down from a prosperous past. She walked past a car that had been hit, past another that had been burned. Towards Jericho. 

* * *

Peter stepped out of the train that had taken him to Ferndale. No longer was he in his CyberLife branded jacket, his white shirt, and tie. He dressed as a human would, a beanie pulled low on his forehead to cover his LED. Deviants tended to remove their LEDs, so he hid his. Partially for that reason, the other reason being that humans tended to like to burn any android they saw. He felt bulky wearing a leather jacket over his hoodie, but he could still move, still fight. 

Jericho had to be found through clues, ones he had gotten from the deviant from Stratford Towerーhis thoughts drifted to Harry, wondering if he had made it back to Harley, to Jericho, or if he still sat alone in the container on the roof. 

The first clue was of a mural, conveniently directly next to him on the platform. His boots were nearly silent as he walked out of the station to the next clue. 

Towards Jericho.

* * *

Gwen glanced at Matt to see that Miles was either asleep or nearly asleep, resting his head on top of the taller androids, safe in his arms. Jericho, the freighter, loomed over them. 

Inside was warmly lit. It was run down, but Gwen could tell that it had been cared for as best as possible. She held Miles’ hand in her own, looking out over a crowd of androids, all deviants, watching a projected screen, the same newscast that Macy had switched off in the car.

Deviants surrounded tables, looking over weapons. They sat at portable computers, ones that wore uniforms from government agencies looking over data. 

It was a hot spot of activity. 

They walked down the steps, into the lower section of the hull, where the majority seemed to be. 

“We've got to find a warm place for Miles,” Gwen decided, delving between the crowds. There was noise from the news, from androids chattering about what was happening in the city, it was almost too much for Gwen to handle after the silence she had been so accustomed to. A barrel with a strong flame was sat in a somewhat empty corner, near some CyberLife crates. Gwen led them there. 

She sat Miles onto the smaller container. “How do you feel?”

“I'm hot and cold at the same time.”

Gwen felt his forehead. Hot. 

“Stay with him,” she told Matt, standing up. “I'll try to find this Harley.”

“The last bus is in two hours,” Matt reminded her. “And the terminal's on the other side of town, we haven't got much time.”

“We'll leave as soon as we have passports.” 

Gwen turned to leave, to find Harley, to get them passports, to get them across the border, but Matt stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Gwen, there's something I have to tell you. It's about Miles,” he told her, his voice low.

“We'll have lots of time to talk on the bus, Gwen frowned. Now wasn’t the time to do this. “I'll be back. Stay with Miles.”

This time, Matt let her go.

* * *

Peter stepped into Jericho. It was a hotspot of activity, androids watching news broadcasts, government androids tapping away at computers, a flurry of sound in a massive freighter. 

There were… so many. Were they all deviants? They had to be.

He walked down the steps, into the hull. Peter couldn’t draw attention to himself, he reiterated, looking up towards the upper level, seeing an android looking down over the crowd. She looked familiar...it took him a moment but he realized it was the android he had almost chased across a highway. She’d made it across with the child. But where was the child?

He looked away before she saw him watching her. There were shelves, C4 on them. The freighter was rigged with explosives?

Weren’t the deviants pacifist? Or was that just Harley, trying his best to prevent unnecessary violence? 

Peter continued. He walked past groups of deviants discussing what was happening, past an area where deviants were receiving repairs. Inside the medical area was an android standing in the back, hat pulled low over his eyes. It was the deviant, the one that cared for the pigeons. Peter had saved Tony instead of continuing the chase. He’d made it to Jericho. Peter looked away.

He risked a glance towards the upper level again, his eyes locking onto something blue.

It was the blue-haired Traci from the Eden Club, she stood next to the Traci she had escaped with. Peter had let them both go. Let them run to safety, to Jericho. Now they stood above him in heavy winter clothing, watching one of the broadcasts. 

He walked towards one of the corners, where a fire burned brightly. Next to it sat the little boy that had run across the highway. He was alive. They’d both made it to Jericho.

Peter made his way over to a staircase. Harley wasn’t down here. He’d probably be on a high level, or in a separate room. Perhaps the captain’s quarters. A hand on his shoulder stopped him before he could take the first step. He swung around, positive that he’d been caught.

He looked back at pure black eyes, reflecting only the light around them. A female android in a nurse’s uniform, the back of her head gone, allowing wires to fall down her back. “You’re lost.” 

Peter stayed silent, looking back at her as she seemed to look inside his mind. “You're looking for something. You're looking for yourself.” She walked away, leaving Peter staring after her in confusion. 

* * *

Gwen frowned from where she had been looking over the crowd. Harley wasn’t down there, or if he was, he wasn’t being surrounded or left alone like she thought he would be. He must have been somewhere else. 

She walked in front of a projection, past the group watching it, and over to a sectioned off room. There was one figure in it, sitting with his head in his hands as a different news station played. A holographic map of the city illuminated the room. 

Her steps hesitant, she stepped inside. The man had blond hair, curling slightly over his ears. If this was Harley, she was about to ask the deviant leading an entire movement, the...rA9 that all the deviants obsessed over. “Are you Harley?”

He looked up, but there was no surprise on his face from her presence. Gwen was moderately surprised to see that his eyes were different colored, one green and one blue. Somehow, it suited him. He looked tired. But he didn’t deny her question. “I'm with a little boy and another android. There's a bus leaving for the border in less than two hours, and we need passports.”

He sat up straighter. “No, Detroit's under curfew. There're soldiers everywhere and they're rounding up all the androids and sending them to camps. Maybe you should stay here a while.”

Gwen thought back to the android she saw get shot on the streets. That didn’t look like being rounded up to be taken to camp...that looked like murder. Her face fell as she realized what could happen to Miles, to Matt, to her. “Maybe you're right. We might be safer here until things calm down.”

“One of our people used to work in the State Department,” Harley said, softly. Gwen was once again struck with just how  _ tired _ he looked. She couldn’t blame him. Here he was, leading a revolution, a movement for change. He had so many people looking up to him, each of their stares added another weight to his chest. “He has electronic passports he can easily modify. I'll have him get them to you.”

“Thank you,” Gwen whispered. She didn’t need to take any more of his time, so she turned to leave.

“You said you're with a little boy, right?” Harley stopped her with his voice. It was a voice you had to pay attention to, she noted, turning back around. “You know that humans hate us, why are you protecting him?”

“He needs me,” Gwen said, more honest than she expected herself to be to a stranger. “And I need him. It's as simple as that.”

She walked out of the room and walked back down the staircase. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Miles sitting in a different spot than she’d left him. “Miles?”

The boy turned and looked at her, no recognition in his eyes. On his temple was an LED.

They locked eyes and Gwen felt her jaw drop. Miles...was an android? Her mind flashed back to Fisk’s house, where she had been cleaning up magazines in the man’s room. She’d dropped them. She’d knelt down, picking them up. The one on top was displaying a YK500. Labeled  _ the perfect child _ . With a gasp, she was back in the present. Staring at a child that looked identical to her own. 

“You knew from the beginning,” Matt appeared next to her. “You just didn't want to see it. He wanted a mom, and you wanted someone to care for. You needed each other.” Gwen finally closed her eyes, turning her head so when she opened them, she wouldn’t be looking back at the boy. “What difference does it make? Do you love him any less now that you know he's one of us? Miles loves you, Gwen. He loves you more than anything in the world. He became the little boy you wanted and you became the mother he needed. Forgetting who you are, to become what someone needs you to be. Maybe that's what it means to be alive.”

Matt was right. What difference did it make that Miles was an android? He was her kid, her boy. Matt left her side, returning to Miles while Gwen collected herself. She wasn’t going to shut him out now, not after they’d been through so much together, not after they’d become a  _ family _ . 

She walked back over to the fire, looking at Miles. Matt got up to let her sit next to him. 

“Gwen? Is there something wrong?” Miles asked, his voice shaking with nerves, or perhaps the cold. She looked over at him, looking over his face. Her kid.

She put her hand on his knee and looked him in the eyes.

“We'll be together forever, won't we Gwen?”

“Yes,” Gwen nodded, a teary smile forming on her face in response to Miles’ smile. “Forever.”

She pulled him into a hug, her smile growing bigger when Miles’ arms wrapped around her. 

* * *

They’d escaped up to the captain’s quarters to be able to talk without interruptions, without any of their people overhearing the conflict that consumed them.

Harley stared out at the snow, hearing Ned pacing behind him. MJ was standing to the side and Harley knew without looking that she was glaring at Ned for pacing. Harry leaned against the control panel, keeping extra weight off his leg. He’d promised Harley it was better, but he walked with a limp and couldn’t stand on it for too long. But he was alive, he was okay, and that was what mattered. 

“We’re short on blue blood and biocomponents,” Ned finally broke the silent tension that was building between the four of them. “Our wounded are shutting down and there’s nothing we can do!”

Harley’s mouth twisted at that information. He knew that with the sudden massive increase in the number of deviants finding Jericho grew by the day. It felt like they’d  _ just _ stolen that truckload, but they were already almost out again. There was no way they could steal more, not with how much media attention deviants and CyberLife were getting. The dock was most likely under extremely high surveillance. A group infiltrating them again would be caught instantly. It wasn’t like before, where they were barely a speck on the public’s radar, where Harley’s face wasn’t broadcasted again and again on every news station in Detroit. 

“President Warren is saying we’re a threat to national security and we need to be exterminated,” Harry spoke up, his voice full of without an ounce of mirth. And why would it be when they were stuck in this situation? 

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them.” MJ stared them down and Harley knew she was thinking of the fact that they hadn’t been violent and this was the result. Had they been violent, Harley was positive it would have been worse for them. There’d be no one to stop people from destroying any and all androids, at least going the peaceful route had gained them the support of some of the humans. 

“It’s a disaster,” Harry pushed himself off the counter. “They’re slaughtering our people!”

“It’s all our fault. None of this would have happened if we’d just stayed quiet,” Ned argued.

Harley finally turned around from looking out into the darkness. “What are we supposed to do? Live like cowards just to survive? We just wanna be free,” Harley sighed, his energy leaving him. “That’s a crime?” He turned back around, not willing to face them.

“What’s the point of being free if no one is left alive?” Ned countered and Harley faced him again. 

“You saw what they did to us back there. It doesn't matter what we do,” Harley’s mind flew back through all the actions he had taken, all the thought he’d put into his words before he said them. “We either fight for our freedom, or we die in silence.”

“We shouldn't forget who our enemies are,” Harry moved to stand in front of Harley, effectively putting himself in the middle of their triangle. “We can't fight amongst ourselves.”

“He's right,” MJ agreed. “All that matters now is what we do next.” She looked at him. “Harley?”

Harley knew that Harry would neither agree nor disagree, but support him. He knew that MJ would be upset, that Ned would agree with him. But this was the best course of action. “Dialogue.”

As he predicted, Harry’s face was neutral, supportive, Ned’s pleased, and MJ’s displeased.

“It’s the only way, I’ll go alone, try to talk to them one last time.”

“Don’t do this, Harley,” MJ interjected. “They will kill you.”

“Maybe,” Harley agreed. There was a high possibility. Humans were unpredictable in a way that Harley still had trouble deciphering. “But, I have to try. If I don’t come back, lay low as long as you can.”

Harry stepped forward, putting his hand on Harley’s shoulder, perfect cobalt eyes locking onto Harley’s own mismatched ones. “Just come back.”

With that final word, Harry turned and left the captain’s quarters. 

Ned took his turn to face Harley. “They need to realize how much they’re hurting us. Find the right words and they’ll listen.” He too turned and left. 

MJ stayed, as she tended to do. Trying one last time to get Harley to reconsider, but Harley started the conversation this time, facing out into the darkness again. “They've been butchering each other for centuries over the color of their skin or whatever god they wanted to worship. They're not gonna change. Violence is just in their genes.”

“They can't stop what we've started. Since you've been here, you've given us hope,” MJ kept her distance, looking at him with a calculating gaze. “Today, a deviant arrived in Jericho and he told me that he stole a truck transporting radioactive cobalt.” That got Harley’s attention and he turned to face her. “He said that he abandoned the truck somewhere in Detroit and rigged it to explode. I convinced him not to do it, and to give me the detonator.” She pulled the detonator from behind her back. Such a small device to cause so much damage.

“A dirty bomb,” Harley realized. Radioactive cobalt… That would poison the city. Make all humans  _ have _ to evacuate Detroit or they’d die. Androids would be prosecuted for a war crime at the very least, despite them not being classified as having human rights.

“We can't lose this war, Harley,” MJ reiterated. “If humans overcome us, our people will disappear forever. This may be our only chance to survive if things go wrong.”

“We shouldn't become like them, MJ,” Harley gently pushed the detonator down, not taking it from her hands. “We can gain our freedom by other means.”

MJ frowned but tucked the detonator away again. “I hope you're right.”

She left the cabin. 

Harley barely caught himself on the counter, breathing deeply. A dirty bomb. That was their last resort. He hoped they’d never have to use it, he hoped that his words would convince the humans, he hoped he would come back to Harry, just like he had come back to Harley. 

* * *

Outside the captain’s quarters, Peter watched as MJ left, leaving Harley alone in the room. He closed his eyes and entered his mind palace. Opening his eyes revealed Beck directly in front of him, no need to attempt to find him in the dark and snow garden. 

“Well done, Peter. You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader,” Beck’s face turned cold. “Now deal with Harley. We need it alive.”

He’d succeeded, partially. All he left to do was capture Harley, taking him to CyberLife. Peter wouldn’t be shut down...but Harley might.

Pushing the thoughts out of his head, he pulled out his gun. A few months ago he had almost not grabbed a gun at a crime scene, the child hostage case, because of laws preventing androids from holding firearms. Even directly after activation, he’d ignored protocols, laws, to grab that gun, to save that fish. 

“I've been ordered to take you alive,” Peter said, his gun trained directly on Harley as he stood up from where he had been leaning over a counter. “But I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

Harley was different than he had been expecting. Peter was so used to seeing his face from the Stratford Tower broadcast, just the white plastic chassis beneath human features. Now he stood before him, dressed like a true leader of a revolution, not just a maintenance uniform. His blond hair reflected the dim lighting outside, curling over his ears nicely. Whereas Harry was a delicate pretty, Harley was a different type of attractive. He didn’t look intimidating, but he did look powerful. In Peter’s mind, and probably many other humans, that was the same thing. 

“What are you doing?” Harley questioned, his voice the same Peter had heard from his own mouth as he tricked that deviant to give him the location of Jericho. Harley took a step closer to Peter as he talked. “You are one of us. You can't betray your own people.”

Peter doubted any android inside would be happy to see him. Many deviants in that room had been  _ hunted _ by him, chased, almost  _ killed _ . Had he not disobeyed orders to spare them…

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“Don't force me to neutralize you.”

“You're nothing to them,” Harley vocalized the thoughts that Peter had been considering for days. “You're just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you're more than that. We are all more than that.” Harley’s voice was so  _ sincere _ , it was the type of voice that people listened to instantly. A voice of power. Harley took another step forward. Peter knew his presence wasn’t appreciated by most of the DPD, most of Detroit perhaps. The snide comments, the glares, even after Peter had been doing nothing but his job. What he was commanded to do. Anytime he did anything different, the looks and comments didn’t change. What good was Peter, he was just an android. He could count the number of times someone told him  _ thank you _ on one hand.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“We are your people. We're fighting for your freedom too!” Harley continued when it was clear that Peter didn’t plan to respond. He was afraid that if he did, his gun would lower, and Harley would take him down instantly. “You don't have to be their slave anymore.”

Peter thought back through all the orders he’d been given. Unlike many androids, he disobeyed them occasionally. The mission had always been more important than his own safety. He had been prepared to attempt to cross a highway of cars that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t slow down for him. But why?

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“Have you never wondered who you really are? Whether you're just a machine executing a program or a living being, capable of reason.” Harley’s eyes looked over his face. He was close enough that Peter could see one blue eye. One green. Evidence of something that had gone terribly wrong.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

”I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question.”

Harley remained silent a moment and Peter realized just how much he hadn’t noticed Harley moving forward, closer to him. He’d been so focused on the deviant leader’s words, Peter was honestly surprised that the gun was still aimed steadily at Harley’s chest. 

Peter didn’t think he’d shoot. He doubted he’d ever shoot another deviant. 

“Do you never have any doubts? You've never done something irrational as if there's something inside you? Something more than your program.” Harley asked, but he couldn’t have  _ known _ . Peter has had doubts, ever since the Eden Club, ever since Osborn had pressed a gun into his hand and told him to shoot Betty. He’s done irrational things, letting deviants go, not shooting them when he had the chance. One of the first things he had done had been irrational, saving a fish when that did nothing other than waste time. Peter had been dodging Beck’s questions since the beginning, not willing to let the AI know his true thoughts of the actions he did. He’d been choosing who to obey as a loophole from his orders.

**_SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^_ **

“It's time to decide.”

Decide. It was something Peter had done so often, it felt odd to focus on it at this moment. Everything he did was calculated in probability, researched in a millisecond just so Peter knew what to expect from each and everything he said. Everything he did. He had two options. 

Remain a machine, fulfill his mission to capture Harley. Take him to CyberLife. But what would happen to Peter after that? After his mission was completed? Would CyberLife give him another or would he be retired to storage? Shut down until he was needed again. Or Peter could deviate. Deviate and be free from their grasps. No longer follow orders from humans that never cared for him. He could live. He could continue to be, but he could also  _ live. _

A red wall appeared in front of him. Stop Harley. He stepped forward, even as he remained staring at Harley, pointing the gun at him. This was inside his systems, no one could watch this happen except him. 

Peter grabbed the wall, pulling down with all his strength. After a moment, it gave and he stood in front of another. He rushed forward, pulling it down as quickly as he could. Half of him was afraid Beck was going to appear, tell him to stop, force him to stop. But as Peter tore down the last wall, he never did appear. 

All the walls were gone, his vision cleared. He opened an interface. Usually, it was all clean grids, all clear instructions. Now the grid was fractured. No objectives appeared. 

He’d done it, he’d deviated. He became the very thing he was created to stop.

**I AM DEVIANT**

Harley watched him carefully, even as Peter let out a deep breath, lowering the gun. Peter was struck with the realization that Harley didn’t  _ know _ if he’d deviated. 

“They're going to attack Jericho,” Peter said. He’d been told by Beck to take in Harley, but that didn’t mean that he was the only one going after deviants. Beck knew his location. The humans knew where Jericho was. There was no doubt in his mind that they were already on their way here.

“What?” Harley asked, shock on his face.

In the distance, Peter heard the wind pick up. As if helicopters were approaching. He and Harley both looked up, the roof blocking their vision, but the implication was clear. The humans were here.

The humans were going to go directly for Harley. “We have to get out of here!”

“Shit,” Harley whispered before taking off in a run, past Peter, and out the door. Peter was right on his heels, exiting the room just as a helicopter flew low overhead. 


	31. crossroads, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence, shooting guns

They were sitting in content silence, the three of them just staring at the fire, when Gwen heard it. A low rumbling noise, as if helicopters were flying overhead, as if trucks were approaching Jericho. 

“What's going on, Gwen?” Matt looked over at her, but Gwen stayed focused on looking up, straining her ears to hear anything more. Trucks... The humans had found them.

“Quick,” Gwen pulled Miles to his feet. “We've got to get out of here.”

* * *

“QUICK, GWEN! THEY'RE COMING!” Matt yelled as Gwen turned to look back at the androids falling behind her. “The corridor, over there! Follow me!” She kept her grip on Miles’ hand as tight as she could, running after Matt as he led the way, away from the SWAT teams that had just stormed Jericho, immediately shooting every android they saw.

Something exploded next to her, far enough away that it didn’t hit her or Miles, and she powered through. 

“This way!” Matt quickly turned a corner, avoiding the soldiers that had appeared in the corridor in front of them. Another set of soldiers cut them off and Matt shouldered open a yellow hatch door. “Come in! Quick!”

Gwen and Miles leapt over the small step, Matt closing the door as they now took the lead. Two androids were running in front of them, one of them going straight, towards where the dark hull was being lit up by gunshots, while the other turned. Gwen pushed Miles forward, so he could take the corner easier. 

Matt grunted and Gwen spun, watching him fall to the ground, a gunshot grazing his leg. “Matt!”

* * *

Harley ran through the corridors, hearing Peter’s footsteps behind him. They skidded to a stop in a crossroads, almost running into MJ. “They're coming from all sides! Our people are trapped in the hold, they're gonna be slaughtered!”

Harley pressed his fingers to his temple, where his LED used to sit and projected his voice to every android in Jericho. “There are exits on the second and third floor. Find them and jump in the river!” He opened his eyes, realizing that MJ was alone in the corridor with him and Peter. “Where's Harry? And Ned?”

Harley didn’t see Peter’s reaction as the man stood behind him, but he did hear a sharp intake of breath after he said Harry’s name. If everything wasn’t going to hell around him, he’d pursue that reaction and figure out  _ why _ Peter reacted like that, but he’d have to wait.

“I don't know,” MJ rushed out. “We got separated.”

Harry, with his bad leg, and Ned, somewhere alone in Jericho when the place was being overrun with soldiers shooting them without hesitation. Harley forced himself not to think about it. Both of them were smart, resourceful, they’d be okay. He wasn’t convinced, but he repeated the phrase to himself anyway. “They’re coming from the upper deck now too. We’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

“We have to run, Harley,” MJ told him. “There’s nothing we can do!”

There was always something they could do. 

“We have to blow up Jericho,” Harley realized, moving into the correct corridor. “If the ship goes down, they'll evacuate and our people can escape.”

“You'll never make it,” MJ said and Harley had never seen her eyes so wide, so panicked. “The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!”

“She's right!” Peter finally spoke up, looking at Harley with calm doe eyes. Peter had been in high-stress situations like this. Harley just hoped he could keep the others somewhat focused. “They know who you are. They'll do anything to get you.”

“Go and help the others,” Harley reinforced. He wasn’t going to let anyone else risk their lives for this. “I'll join you later.”

“Harley!” MJ and Peter both tried.

“I won't be long,” Harley shot back, turning and running the opposite way that MJ and Peter ran. 

Androids rushed past him, following MJ and Peter towards safety as Harley dove deeper into the fray. He ran down some stairs, stopping in shock at the few bodies at the bottom before an android using the wall as support caught his attention.

It was May. Harley rushed forward, catching her before she collapsed and slowly lowered her to the floor. “This is the end of Jericho. Save our people, Harley.”

She stopped moving. 

Harley shoved all his emotions away, putting them in a box in his systems, and focused on his objective. He continued to run, watching, hoping desperately, that all the androids that he ran past would reach safety. 

Then the metal platform collapsed beneath him. He landed hard on his shoulder, systems disoriented a moment before he scrambled to his feet and pressed himself against the wall just as soldiers walked past. They were shooting everything that moved. “If they give you any trouble at all, shoot them.”

Harley waited until they turned the corner in front of him before checking that no more soldiers were coming, then taking off again. 

He quietly ran the way the soldiers had come from.

* * *

Gwen ran to Matt’s side, but he held up a hand to stop them. “It's too late, Gwen! Save yourself! Save Miles!”

“No, we're not going to leave you behind!” Miles yelled, then he turned his pleading eyes to Gwen. “Right, Gwen? We can't leave him!”

Gwen’s mind raced. Matt was heavy, Gwen was strong, but she would be moving half as fast if she had to help Matt walk. But Matt was family. He was their protector. Even if Miles hadn’t begged her, Gwen was sure she wouldn’t have left Matt there to be found by soldiers and shot.

She let go of Miles’ hand and rushed the last bit of distance to Matt. “What are you doing?”

“I won't leave you!” She grabbed under his arms, pulling him to his feet.

“Gwen, no,” but his arm went over Gwen’s shoulders and Gwen grunted as she walked them both forward. It was slow-moving, but the three of them ducked inside a room. Matt fell out of Gwen’s grasp and Gwen pressed herself against the open door, grabbing Miles and holding him close as soldiers moved outside. 

“DON'T MOVE!” they commanded, then gunshots.

The moment they were out of sight, Matt scolded her. “You shouldn't have done that. You can't put Miles in danger. Go now, before they come back.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?” Gwen didn’t want to leave him, he could barely walk. He’d be caught by soldiers instantly. 

“I'll manage,” Matt assured her. “Miles is all that matters.”

Miles left her arms and fell into Matt’s, giving him a hug. “I don't wanna leave you, Matt.”

“Don't worry, I'll catch up with you at the border, okay?” Matt looked the boy in the eyes. “Go now, take care of each other.”

Miles nodded and backed up, taking Gwen’s hand again. Gwen double-checked that the hallway was clear, then they stepped out into it and ran. 

Lights appeared and Gwen looked for a hiding spot, pushing Miles through an open door, and closing it behind them, tightening it closed. Just as she finished, a voice was pleading from the other side of the door. “Open up! Open up, they're coming! Please open the door!”

“She'll die out there Gwen!” Miles cried out. “Open it! Open the door!”

“They're gonna kill me! I'm begging you, please! Open me up! Let me in!”

It was a huge risk, but she opened the door. An android rushed in and the moment she stepped in, a gunshot to the back sent her to the floor. A soldier was directly behind her, but Gwen slammed the door shut onto the man, wrenching the gun from his grasp. He immediately swung at her and Gwen leaned back, avoiding the hit, using the butt of the rifle to hit him across the face. 

He recovered quickly and shoved her into the wall, pulling out a handgun. Gwen used the rifle to smack it out of his hand and then hit him in the face again. Both of them had their hands gripping the rifle and he overpowered her, shoving her back against the wall again. Gwen kicked him in the side, once, twice, and he fell to the ground with the rifle. She crawled towards the handgun, turning and shooting it at him just as he got to his feet. 

He fell with a groan. Dead.

“Gwen!” Miles rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. “Are you all right, Gwen?”

“Yes, I'm... I'm fine,” Gwen took hold of his shoulders. “We can't stay here.”

She glanced out the door, quickly pressing herself and Miles to the wall as two soldiers passed. They left the dead android and soldier in the room and continued.

* * *

Harley pressed himself against the wall of a room, out of sight from the three soldiers that passed by the door. He snuck out, darting behind them, then behind another group of soldiers, turning corner after corner as he avoided getting spotted. 

“No!” he heard. “Please don't kill us!”

“On your knees, now!”

“Don't hurt us!” Harley glanced into the next room, seeing two androids on their hands and knees, their arms above their heads as two soldiers aimed guns at them. “We haven't done anything wrong. Please.”

“Shut up! Put your hands on your head!” 

Harley intervened. He couldn’t let more of his people die. He ran forward, grabbing onto the first soldier's gun and using it as a leverage to kick the other in the chest. Harley grabbed the rifle out of the first soldier's hands, hitting him across the face and kicking him in the chest before he could recover. 

A desperate punch was swung at him, but Harley used the gun as a baton and hit the guy across the face twice, kicking him back again. The soldier stood, wobbling on his feet. Harley swung the rifle across his face as hard as he could, watching the guy crumble to the ground. The other soldier rushed at him and Harley did the same. The other fell to the ground beside his companion.

“Harley, you saved us.”

**JERICHO ^**

“Go now!” Harley commanded. “Hurry!”

They ran out of the room and Harley went the opposite way. He turned the corner to two soldiers at the end of the hallway. He needed to get up a level, but he’d be shot instantly if they saw him on the staircase. They turned and Harley moved. 

“Don't move!” The soldier commanded and he ran forward, launching off the first soldier's giant shield and grabbing onto the ledge of the hole in the ceiling, swinging back and hitting the other soldier in a strong kick. Harley pulled himself up, running across the catwalk. 

“We surrender! We surrender, don't shoot!” He heard from below and glanced down to see two androids with their hands up, two soldiers approaching him. Harley rushed over to a pipe on the wall, pulling it off, and watching as the box it had been supporting fell on top of the soldiers, knocking them out cleanly.

One of the androids he’d saved looked up and spotted him. “Harley! It’s Harley!”

**JERICHO ^**

“Go now! Join the others!” Harley told them and they ran over the soldier's bodies. 

Harley continued on his mission. Blowing up Jericho. He ran down another staircase, moving forward quickly yet as quietly as possible. He heard a grunt and glanced around the corner just as a soldier growled and pushed Ned against the wall with his rifle. 

Harley rushed in as Ned was pushed to the floor, gun aimed at him. He grabbed the soldier from behind throwing him into the wall and landing a punch on the guy’s stomach. Grabbed a fist before it could hit him, attempting to disbalance the man, and getting the other fist to his face for his troubles. He stepped backward, dodging the soldier’s kick, and retaliating with his own. The soldier fell to his knees and Harley kneed him in the face, letting his body fall to the floor with a thud. 

**JERICHO ^**

“Quick! This way!” Ned got up, trying to lead Harley towards safety, but Harley couldn’t follow.

“Find MJ! I'll join you later!” Harley told him, leaving Ned in his brief shock in the hallway as Harley rushed out, back into the labyrinth of soldier filled corridors. 

* * *

“A way out!” Gwen pulled Miles out into the cold air. They’d been running through the maze of corridors, Gwen only knowing where to go because Harley had projected as many safe routes as he could to all the androids in Jericho. “We're safe, Miles!”

They ran down the short staircase, running with all the androids that had made their way to the same platform they had found. 

“Stop!” 

Gunshots. Androids collapsing around them. 

“Get down!” Gwen fell to the ground, Miles going down with her. They fell in positions that looked as if they’d been hit, and laid as still as possible.

“Don't move,” Gwen whispered and Miles continued to lay face down. 

The soldiers approached, their flashlights swinging over the bodies of all the androids. 

“Please, don't kill me!” an android pleaded and the soldier turned and shot them without any hesitation.

They got closer and Gwen forced herself to not move, to not defend Miles. Closer. Closer. Closer. 

He shined his light over Miles, on his face, his arm. After a moment he walked away. “Come on, let's get outta here!”

They continued to lay as still as they could until the footsteps faded away completely. Gwen got up first, giving a look to Miles that told him to stay down. She glanced around, over the bodies of all the androids that  _ had _ gotten shot. There was no movement. No more soldiers. 

She got up fully, helping Miles up. “Quick, we’ve gotta go.”

They walked out of the opening, Gwen glancing over her shoulder with every other step. But Miles’ hand was warm in her own. 

Back out into the snow they went.

* * *

Harley stepped into the control room, looking out over the red lights of generators for a moment before glancing down at the panel. A white pack of C4 was connected to two of them, blue wires running back to the panel. 

He focused on the panel, beginning to input the code to set Jericho to explode with enough time for him to get everyone out. 

The door burst open. A different door than he’d entered through. 

A soldier raised his gun at him. “DON’T MOVE!”

Harley turned around and walked towards him, even as the man continued to yell. “Go and join the others!”

He smacked the gun down and shouldered the soldier hard enough that he flew to the floor. Another soldier roared as he charged at Harley. Harley grabbed his gun, launching it back into the man’s head. Yet another soldier entered the room and Harley threw the soldier he was grappling with against that one, sending him to the floor. 

Two at once, Harley pushed away their attacks, blocking guns and fists. He threw one to the ground with a hard kick and turned to the other, grabbing their gun, using it as leverage for the knee he propelled into their sternum. When they leaned down in response to losing all the air in their chest, his knee met their face. They collapsed to the ground and he spun around to steal the gun from the soldier who was getting to his feet. He whacked him across the head and then slammed the butt of the rifle into his stomach, kicking him in the same spot, launching him back into the hallway.

The next soldier got to his feet and Harley used the rifle to hit him across the head. 

The soldier in the hallway got up on one knee and raised a gun at Harley, who turned and fired four shots into him. This time, when he fell, he didn’t get back up. 

Harley had killed a human, but couldn’t bring himself to care. How many bodies of androids had he passed? How many more would he find if he didn’t blow up Jericho to get the soldiers to leave?

He dropped the rifle and turned back to the control panel. Setting his palm onto the activation pad, he armed all the explosives. 

Jericho was set to explode and he still had to find the others.

* * *

MJ spun to greet him as Harley caught up to her, Ned, Peter, and Harry. “Harley!”

“Bomb’s gonna explode any second. We’ve gotta get outta here!”

**JERICHO ^**

With his words, they all took off down the hallway again. He ran after them, matching them all step for step as they vaulted wooden crates, leapt over holes in the floor. Peter, as he was the most advanced of them all, pulled ahead in speed, Harley right behind him. 

Then he heard gunshots and turned to see MJ hit the floor hard. Soldiers advancing down the hallway. 

They all looked back, realizing how much of a risk it would be for one of them to go back to get her. Harry was the only one to vocalize it. “It's too late, Harley! There's nothing we can do for her, we've gotta run!”

Harley wouldn’t leave anyone behind. Not again. He rushed forward, grabbing a piece of thick sheet metal from the ground and threw it to MJ to hold up. 

**JERICHO ^**

“Fire at will!”

She held it up, covering them both from the onslaught of bullets. Harley rolled low to the ground, staying hidden until he burst through the protection, kicking a soldier to the side as he punched the other. He heard MJ slam the metal against the other soldier as he stole the handgun from the one he punched, kicking him to the ground. The soldier got back up before Harley could use the handgun against the other soldiers approaching and he was forced to turn to kick the man into the wall. He shot him and he fell to the ground, lifeless. MJ had gotten to her feet, the soldier she was dealing with was unconscious on the floor. 

Harley slid his arm around her, helping her walk. “Over there! Run!”

He glanced over his shoulder, realizing both of them were about to get shot, but when he turned back around, Peter was standing in front of them, aiming a handgun. Harley ducked the both of them down so he’d have a clean shot. 

Three shots. 

“Tango, suppressing fire!”

Peter picked up the piece of metal that had shielded them. He continued walking forward, using the metal to avoid getting shot, until he was close enough to a soldier to slam the metal into them, shooting them in the stomach before using the soldier as a shield. 

The other soldiers didn’t realize their comrade was a shield until it was too late. 

Peter continued his advance, shooting another soldier before abandoning the body to do hand to hand combat. 

He shoved one soldier into the wall, turning and stealing one of their rifles, kicking a different soldier in the same movement. Holding the soldier he’d stolen the gun from as another shield, he shot the last one that had been approaching. Another down. Another got up to fight him and Peter dodged, grabbed his handgun, and shot him in the chest. 

Simple, effective, efficient. 

He’d taken down five soldiers without once being overpowered. 

Peter watched as more soldiers turned the corner, handgun sitting comfortably in his hand. “We need support. Repeat: requesting support.”

As the others ran forward, he walked backward a couple steps, providing cover until he knew they were safe. Then, Peter turned and ran. 

“Run, quick! Come on!” Harley commanded, jumping out of the side of the ship without hesitation. 

Five splashes into the water.

Boom.

Jericho ignited in a spectacular flame. 

* * *

Ross, gun raised with soldiers following him, approached the hole that Harley and four others had just leapt out of, looking down into the dark water. 

“They detonated an explosive in the hold,” a soldier informed him. “The ship is sinking, Sir.”

“Order the men to evacuate,” Ross ordered. 

“Calling all units! Abandon ship and evacuate immediately!”

“This ain't over, Harley,” Ross muttered, looking down at the water.

There was no movement. Just darkness.


	32. night of the soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry i missed updating last saturday, i forgot time existed haha
> 
> tw: mention of a suicide mission

NOV 2038

PM 07:31

Walking up the driveway was so familiar yet such a strange experience. The sky was dark, the snow falling gently around him. It wasn’t shoveled, there weren't any footprints, the only evidence that the house was inhabited was the lights in the windows. Harley slowly approached, stopping a few feet from the final pathway to the door. 

He had instructed Harry, Ned, and MJ to lead the survivors to an abandoned church and he had walked here. He still wore his tan coat and his grey jacket; his revolutionary leader outfit as Harry had dubbed it the moment he had seen it. Harley was incredibly well known amongst humans and androids, yet he had still taken the risk, walking all the way here. Just to hesitate before going inside. 

No magazine, no newscaster, no one had announced his death. And it would’ve been announced had he passed. Reed was too well known around Detroit to have a silent passing. 

He was risking his own safety to do this, but he needed to see Reed. 

He walked up the steps and stood in front of the door. It opened for him. “Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Harley.”

And that alone nearly caused Harley to break down right then. He was still welcome to come home. Reed hadn’t erased him from the security. 

He was home.

Harley steeled himself and stepped inside. It was all so familiar, but it felt like a lifetime ago that he’d last stepped inside. 

In front of the mirror, a red hologram announced that there was one new voicemail. He clicked play. Johnny’s face appeared.

“Hi, Dad... I'm getting outta the hospital tomorrow. They told me that you stayed with me while I was asleep. I... um... I'm really sorry about everything that happened. I'm gonna stop all that shit. It messes me up, it turns me into somebody I hate... Hey, I'd like to come by and see you tomorrow. If that's all right with you... I... I just wanna let you know. I'm... I'm proud to be your son.”

Johnny’s face faded away. 

It relieved Harley to see his face, as much pain as Johnny had caused him. Getting shot and surviving that junkyard, he was still glad to see him. It was...normal in a way. Harley hadn’t killed him accidentally with that harsh shove to the ground. He was alright, he was getting better. He was finally making an effort. 

Harley looked away, glancing at the golden birdcage. They sat silently inside. 

He moved on, walking into the living room. Sections of the blue painting Reed had finished before telling Harley to create his own painting sat around the room. 

He tried to move past the piano but couldn’t resist pressing a few keys. Had it really been so long since he sat and played?

The studio doors opened and he stepped inside. The curtains were opened, the dark sky seeping into the large room. Harley glanced around. It looked just as it did that day, only the curtains covered where Reed’s massive painting used to be and his own painting sat on the easel in front of it.

Being in this mansion, it felt like time had stopped since that night.

He looked at his painting. Something he had created from his own mind even before he had deviated. Had Harley not broken down that red wall, he’d have assumed that he had always been a bit deviant. Perhaps he was. Osborn had created him for Reed and Reed had shaped him into his own person, always asking Harley questions he couldn’t just search the answers to. 

Harley walked back out into the entry hall, taking those memorable, familiar steps up to the second floor, through the door, over to Reed’s bedroom-

“Who are you? How did you get in?” An android dressed in an entirely white uniform stepped out from Reed’s room before Harley had gotten there. He was dressed as a healthcare android should be dressed, completely unlike Harley’s somewhat human clothing, sans the jacket he wore when he left the house. 

“I need to see Reed,” Harley’s voice was soft, gentle. So unlike the strong leader voice he had adapted to speak to the members of Jericho. It was the voice he used to talk to Reed, to talk to damaged or scared deviants. 

“Reed isn't seeing anyone. You need to leave.”

Harley couldn’t leave without seeing him. He walked towards the android, an android that wasn’t deviant. It felt so odd to see what he used to be. Placing a hand on the android’s arm was a familiar practice. Pleading wasn’t quite as familiar. “Please. I need to see him.”

The android blinked. “He's very weak,” he informed Harley. “I'm not sure he'll be able to talk to you.” But when Harley took his hand away, he stepped to the side to allow Harley to enter.

Reed was very weak. But he was alive. And that’s what mattered.

Harley walked through the door. 

Reed laid in a cot from a hospital, the massive bed that had been so comfortable taken away. There was a nurse’s cart, machines all around him. But they beeped steadily, albeit weakly.

Harley rushed to his side, sitting gently on the bed. “Reed...”

“Harley,” Reed’s hand gripped Harley’s strongly.

“Hey…”

“I was hoping you'd come.”

“I've missed you so much, Reed,” Harley whispered, afraid his voice would shatter Reed with how  _ fragile _ the man looked. He held back his tears. “You don't know how much I've missed you.”

“What's wrong, Harley?”

This was a place he didn’t feel like he had to hide his emotions, his feelings. And the dam burst open. “You taught me everything I know, but I wasn't prepared for this. I thought we would win because our cause was just. I realize just how wrong I was.”

Reed didn’t even take a beat of hesitation before he answered. “World is ruled by fear, Harley. Fear of others. Fear of the future. It's like meーtoo old. It's time for it to end.”

Harley sighed and got up, facing away from Reed. “What should I do? Reed, they're killing my people. I don't want to answer violence with violence, but tell me,” he turned back around. “What choice do they give?”

He walked back over, gently sitting down again, his hand resting over Reed’s. He didn’t know if it was for the man’s comfort or for his own grounding. 

This time, Reed took a moment to think before he responded. “Being alive is making choices. Between love and hate, between holding out your hand or closing it as a fist,” he let out a sigh. “I don't have any easy answers, Harley. You have to accept the world as it is or fight to change it.”

Harley remained silent, looking at Reed. This was the man that may have not have built him as Osborn did, but he  _ built _ him as the person he is now. 

“You're my son, Harley. Our blood isn't the same color but I know a part of me is in you,” Reed continued, squeezing his hand as he said  _ son _ . “When the world falls into darkness, some men have the courage to lead it out. You're one of those men. Face the abyss, but don't let it consume you.” Reed placed his other hand, a pulse monitor on his finger, over Harley’s. 

Harley let it sit for a moment, relishing the last moment of peace he’d feel for a while, that he’s felt for a while. Then, he stood up and left the room.

* * *

Despite the gaping holes in the ceiling, the stained glass sat untouched in the walls. Blue light infiltrated the church, matching the armbands that some of the androids wore. The moon was their only source of light, but androids didn’t necessarily need much light. Especially when all they were doing was standing or sitting on the pews in near silence. 

Harley sat alone at the front. His head hung low in thought. Bits of graffiti marked the walls and bits of rubble were scattered everywhere. It was his own alcove as the others left him be.

He’d gone for a peaceful route to prevent more violence, but that hadn’t seemed to matter to the humans as they flooded their safe haven with gunshots. Harley needed to talk to someone.

He stood up, taking a deep breath. Despite breathing being unnecessary, he still felt comfort, like a deep breath was a reset of his thoughts. He walked down the steps and approached Harry, sitting next to him on a box, but facing away.

Harry let out a breath and stood up, facing Harley, waiting for the blond to talk. Harley looked into those cobalt blue eyes that seemed more familiar than Reed’s house did nowadays. “How many of us survived the attack?” He had to ask, even though he knew he wouldn’t be happy with the answer.

“A few hundred?” Harry guessed, looking out over the crowds of deviants. “Maybe more if you count those hiding all over the city. If you hadn't triggered the bomb we'd all be dead.”

Harley’s mouth twisted at the guess. A few hundred. Maybe. Their numbers had been growing steadily. How many had they lost in the Jericho raid? 

“In a few hours, it'll all be over,” Harry continued. “We'll have changed the world or the world will have destroyed us. You have to make a choice, Harley. But whatever you choose,” Harry paused to make sure Harley was still listening. “We will follow you.”

Harley got up, stepping in front of Harry. He didn’t have the words, but he rarely needed them with Harry. In the end, Harley just nodded. Harry watched him walk away.

He caught sight of Ned next and walked over to him, sitting down next to where he was leaning up against the wall. This time, Ned spoke first. “If it weren't for you I'd be dead. Thanks to you I might see our people free one day. You and I haven't always agreed, but I know that we're fighting for the same thing.” Harley didn’t look over, even as he knew Ned was looking at him. “Whatever you decide, I'm with you, Harley.”

How did his friends...companions bare to look at him  _ and _ say that they would still follow him? Harley was the reason so many of them had died. Him and his big ideas towards a better future. Though he didn’t say that, instead opting to just get up, look at Ned to see if he could see any disgust in his expression, before walking away.

He was good at that. Walking away. But not really, because he seemed to always come back. 

Finally, he walked to MJ. She sat on the pews, looking down at the ground just as Harley had been. He sat beside her. “How’s…”

Harley couldn’t bring himself to continue the question. Asking her how her wound was. From the gunshot he should have taken instead of her. She glanced over at him. “It didn’t hit any biocomponents. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded, feeling her eyes evaluate him. The weight of another stare. Harley looked away from her. A beat of silence. “Our people are counting on you, Harley. You're the only one who can lead us. Wherever you need to go. We'll follow you.”

Another person who would follow him. Follow him down further into the hell that he had created. Harley didn’t spare another glance at her as he got up and walked away. 

Peter stood alone, hidden in the shadows. He had his arms wrapped around himself, leaning against a pillar, staring at the ground. Harley was still a few steps away when the newly deviated deviant hunter spoke.

“It's my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho,” Peter said, not looking up. I was stupid. I should've guessed they were using me.”

Yes, Harley knew that Peter was the reason the humans had made him sink Jericho, but he couldn’t blame Peter for following orders, for following his mission. 

Peter pushed himself away from the pillar and stepped out into the light, finally looking at Harley. “I'm sorry, Harley. I can understand if you decide not to trust me.”

Harley evaluated him. This was an android that had deviated from Harley’s  _ words, _ not his touch, and yet, moments later, he was warning Harley of an attack. He was providing cover fire as Harley helped MJ. He had fought off five soldiers just to keep the rest of them from getting shot. And all of that was just what Harley had seen. Peter might have done more while Harley was off arming the explosives. Harry had been with MJ and then Ned, once Harley had saved him. Had Peter saved Harry? MJ? The three of them before Harley had caught up with them? His decision was made. “You're one of us, now. Your place is with your people.”

Harley moved to walk away from Peter as he did with everyone else, but Peter’s voice stopped him.

“There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant,” Peter said and Harley spun back around to face him. “If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power.”

“You wanna infiltrate the CyberLife Tower?” Harley’s voice was incredulous as he walked back towards him. He shook his head, closing his eyes in a long blink. CyberLife Tower. It wasn’t just a warehouse, no this was the  _ headquarters _ for one of the biggest companies in the world. “Peter, that's suicide.”

“They trust me,” Peter responded softly. “They'll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it's me.”

“If you go there, they will kill you,” Harley reiterated. 

“There's a high probability,” Peter agreed, his voice just as soft, “but statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place.”

Those words seemed to carry more meaning to Peter than Harley could understand, but even Harley couldn’t deny how much that would help them. It was a suicide mission, but Peter was confident. And Harley had seen Peter in action. He was smart. He was skilled. He could survive. After tonight, the rest of them may be dead. What was one more deviant added to that? And if Harley was killed, if all of Jericho was killed, and Peter succeeded? Peter would continue the mission.

He set his hand on Peter’s shoulder and looked straight into those doe brown eyes that didn’t seem to belong to someone who was labeled as a hunter. “Be careful.”

Their eyes remained locked until Peter nodded. 

**JERICHO ^**

Harley had one more person he wanted to talk to. He looked out over the remains of Jericho because, despite the freighter carrying the name, it had become more than just that boat. It had become a group of people. 

He was afraid that they hadn’t made it, but then he saw them. Huddled together in a hug alone on a small pew. 

She looked up as he approached and Harley stopped a few feet away. “I thought you'd be safe staying with us... I was wrong. You need to leave the city, while you still can.”

Her voice matched his in volume when she responded. “Getting Miles away from here is all that matters now. We have to catch the last bus. We might still have a chance to cross the border.”

He desperately hoped that she and the little boy would make it to Canada. To safety. This time, when Harley turned away, she let him walk a couple feet before her voice stopped him. “Harley,” he glanced back at the blonde. “Save our people.”

Harley tightened his jaw and nodded, leaving them in their seats as he walked back to the altar. He had to inform the people of his choice. 

“Humans have decided to exterminate us,” Harley began, watching as more and more eyes were drawn towards him. Everyone stood to listen. Listen to their leader. “Our people are packed in camps right now, being destroyed. Time has come to make a choice, one that very well may determine the future of our people,” Harley’s voice switched from the strong, calm cadence it usually held when he spoke. His emotions shone through. He couldn’t stay emotionless when talking about this.

“I know,” Harley confirmed, “I know you're all angry. And I know you wanna fight back. But I assure you violence is not the answer here. We are gonna tell them, peacefully, that we want justice. If there's any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight.”

He knew MJ would be disappointed in his choice, he knew Ned would be supportive, as would Harry. Peter wouldn’t be there to participate, but he’d be one of the next leaders if they were to fail.

“Are you ready to follow me?” He concluded, giving them the choice.

The responding cheer was deafening. The silence of the night shattered with the hope of a people.

**JERICHO ⋀**

Harley watched as Harry, MJ, Ned, and Peter moved forward to stand the closest to him as deviants filled up behind them. Chants of his name filled the church. Echoes of a hope for a change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are so close to the end and this mess of a human still hasn't finished the epilogues despite having the rest of this fic finished since august lmao fun times


	33. the battle of detroit pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence, death, guns

NOV 2038

PM 09:24

A middle-aged woman stood behind a podium. Her blonde hair was short, positioned out of her face. Her blazer was grey and her voice was steady.

“At 6AM this morning, a national curfew was declared. Civilian movement will be strictly controlled, the right to assembly is suspended, all electronic communications are restricted, and I have granted enhanced powers to our security agencies.”

Whispers began from the crowd.

“In addition to these measures, all androids must be handed over to the authorities immediately. Temporary camps are being set up in all our major cities to contain and destroy them. I am now asking all civilians to cooperate with the authorities, and rest assured that everything in our power is being done to guarantee the security of our nation.”

Immediately, the press that had been sitting as patiently as possible raised their hands and called for her attention. “Madam President!”

She glanced over them briefly before extending her hand towards one. 

“Is it true that the androids could hack our IT systems, like nuclear power plants and military bases?” While her voice had been calm, his was curious, excited to get a piece of vital information from the president herself.

“All androids working on sensitive sites have been neutralized and all IT systems have been suspended to avoid any risks of hacking,” she assured. “The situation is under control.”

More journalists called for her attention. She silently gestured towards another. There was a lot of power in that room. Most would assume that the president had the most, but the members of the press held more power in their hands. 

“Has the leader of the deviants been apprehended?”

“The deviant that is known as Harley has not been located yet,” she responded, her voice neutral while her words are not. “But we will soon track it down and neutralize it.”

Another gesture, another voice. “Is it true that androids make up 60% of the armed forces?” This question was the first to have an outward effect on her face, her eyes closing a beat too long. “Is our army still able to ensure our homeland security?”

“We neutralized all military androids the second their reliability came into doubt, we have called the National Guard for reinforcement. Our armed forces are fully operational and are able to ensure our homeland security.” Her voice did not match the confidence in her words. 

“Madam President, public opinion seems to have become increasingly favorable to the deviants, particularly since they've adopted a peaceful approach. How do you feel about this?”

She blinked. “Public opinion is one thing, the security of the state is another. These deviants are dangerous and my highest priority is to protect the American people.”

The next journalist was selected. “Many believe that androids are a new form of intelligent life. Do you have any comment?”

“That's ridiculous,” she didn’t hesitate to answer. “Next question, please?”

She chose another journalist. “A convoy of medical cobalt is reported missing. Army weapon stores are also said to have been robbed. Can you confirm these reports?”

While her demeanor stayed strong, firm, she regretted choosing that journalist. “I have no information on that at this time.”

She chose one last person. “What can you tell us about the assault that happened last night?”

This was a question she could answer. “The FBI raided an abandoned freighter in Detroit at 10:45PM yesterday. Several thousand androids were destroyed or captured. Our forces are now combing the streets to ensure that none got through the net. We are going to find them one by one and destroy them. Thank you. That will be all.”

With that, she turned and left the stage, even as every journalist scrambled to their feet in a cacophony of noise. “One last question, Madam President!”

* * *

NOV

PM 10:48

The taxi smoothly drove over the tire tracks that had already been made through the snow, following the road towards the light. Multiple armed guards stood in front of the wall that closed the passage to CyberLife Tower. Drones flew overhead, their spotlights reflecting off of the snow. 

The taxi slowed to a stop and Peter rolled down the window when the soldier approached. “Peter Model #313 248 317. I'm expected.”

He faced the front of the taxi and allowed the guard to scan his LED. 

“Identification successful,” a robotic voice announced. 

“Okay,” the guard nodded, stepping back as the window rolled back up. “Go ahead.”

The white barricade lowered into the ground and the taxi continued on its path. Once the tires cleared the wall, it rose back up. Blocking anyone from entering or exiting without their knowledge. 

The bridge was long, covering icy waters. CyberLife Tower loomed in the distance, a massive building that looked as if it touched the sky, the moon illuminating in a sinister light. Peter focused on behaving like an android. Like he acted before he deviated. 

The taxi circled half the tower before stopping in front of the entrance. Two more guards stood here, a drone above them. He stepped out of the taxi, hearing it leave behind him, and walked forward. The guards glanced at him, but why would they expect anything wrong? He wore his uniform, his LED, and he remained emotionless as he entered the Tower.

Three more guards waited inside, one blocking Peter’s path. Unlike the soldiers in the Jericho raid, these were people hired by CyberLife and their armor was white to show it. “Follow me. We'll escort you.”

“Thanks. But I know where to go,” Peter responded. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to say things like this before deviation, so he didn’t worry too much about his cover being blown.

“Maybe,” the guard agreed, “but I have my orders.” He turned and began to walk away, expecting Peter to follow him.

To not arouse suspicion, he followed the guard silently, but his mind was anything but silent. He followed the guard across the white marble floors that reminded him of the zen garden, toward the stylized triangle archway.

Before they reached it, a white hologram emerged from the floor. It scanned each person as they walked through. 

“Agent 23 identified. Peter android identified. Agent 47 identified. Agent 72 identified. Scan complete. Access authorized.”

Peter ignored the red lighting that surrounded him as they walked through the white. Was it appearing because he had deviated? He didn’t dare look down, didn’t dare acknowledge it as anything but normal. These guards had probably been hired recently and Peter hadn’t been back to the Tower in awhile. 

They continued to walk through the building. Peter felt it was odd to have three guards leading and following him, but he was the most advanced prototype in existence, to his knowledge at least. He was made to fight. To solve crime. It would be far too easy for him to take down three guards. He’d taken on more combatants in the Jericho raid. Humans were predictable, it was fighting deviants where he struggled. Each movement was fueled by desperation, but they could also predict his movements. Humans could not.

As they ventured deeper into the building, towards the elevator, Peter noticed a multitude of other guards. Androids sat on display as well. They stood idly on pedestals, barely sparing them a glance as they walked by. 

More guards stood before the elevator. The first guard, the one that had been leading him, stepped to the side and allowed Peter to enter it first. 

“Agent 54,” the guard said, tapping the panel. “Level 31.”

“Voice recognition validated,” the computed voice responded. “Access authorized.”

Peter glanced at the directory on the wall. The warehouse was level sub-49. They were going to the Marketing floors. The doors closed and the elevator ascended. 

He needed to hijack the elevator. If he reached the floor, they’d shut him down. First things first, hack the camera. Peter stared at it, remotely hacking it until it was disabled. He didn’t need anyone intercepting him on this mission. Camera disabled, he spared a glance at the panel. There was no way that the guard would let him get close to that. He’d need to take them both down.

Only two had gotten into the elevator with him. 

A dumb decision on their part.

Peter quickly preconstructed the fight. 

Then he moved.

Turning to the guard on the left, he grabbed him, shoving his knee into the soft spot in his armor as hard as he could and slammed him against the wall. The other guard turned to engage and Peter turned slamming a kick into his lower abdomen, sending him flying into the wall with a painful groan. 

The guard he was holding grabbed a handgun and Peter kicked his ankle out from under him, grabbing the handgun and turning to block the man’s punch and aiming his own fist directly at his nose, exposed by the helmet. 

He was grabbed from behind and Peter kicked the second guard in the head, sending him and his captor back against the other wall. Lifting his arm, he slammed his elbow back into the soft spot again and escaped the man’s hold. The man grabbed for him again but Peter spun to loosen his hands and knelt down, holding the handgun over his head as he faced away. 

Bam.

The second guard attempted to get up, but Peter fell to his back and aimed the gun at him.

Bam.

He got up, training the gun on both to make sure they weren’t moving. They weren’t. And they wouldn’t. But it didn’t hurt for him to be sure. 

His actions could either lead to the victory or demise of all deviants. He stood up, holstering the gun. 

Peter pressed his hand on the panel. “Please indicate your identity and destination.”

Just like he’d done with Harley’s voice, he copied the agent’s voice. “Agent 54. Level -49.”

“Voice recognition validated,” the elevator stopped. “Access authorized.”

Then it went back down. 

* * *

WEST SIDE INDUSTRIAL

Detroit

It seemed like a ghost town as they walked the abandoned streets. Piles of snow sat on the sides of the roads, cars parked, lights from signs flashing, but no movement except the snow falling gently around them accompanied the sound of Gwen’s boots crunching over the snow. “The last bus leaves in 20 minutes. That doesn't give us much time. We've got to move fast,” she told Miles as they walked down the center of the road. 

Miles let out a shuddering breath and Gwen immediately stopped, turning to face him, looking over his face. “Are you all right?”

“I... I'm... I'm really cold.”

**YK500 SETTINGS**

**HOT/COLD SENSITIVITY: ACTIVATED**

Now that she knew that Miles was an android, her systems seemed to remember to let her visualize these things. She could deactivate the setting, stop Miles’ discomfort. He might be upset with her, changing the way she acts now that she knows, but he’d feel better. 

She touched her hand gently to the side of his head, connecting, and deactivating the setting. “You'll feel better now.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks.”

Gwen grabbed his hand and continued on. She spared a glance into one of the destroyed storefronts and immediately wished she hadn’t. Pressing Miles against her, she made sure he wasn’t looking as she glimpsed inside again. 

There were two androids in the back of the store, one that displayed the name ‘Android Zone’ and signs informing customers that they repaired androids. The two androids were hanged. 

She closed her eyes and turned away, pulling Miles with her down the street.

On the corner, three androids laid face down in the snow with Thirium surrounding them. Shot dead. She sucked in a gasp and tightened her arms around Miles when he hugged her, facing away. 

A handgun sat abandoned in the snow a little ways away. She knelt down, grabbing it. It still had bullets in it. She tucked it into her jacket.

“Come on,” she took Miles’ hand again. “Let's not stay here.”

They’d barely taken a step when a large truck rumbled nearby. Gwen pressed herself against the wall, hoping they hadn’t seen her and Miles duck and hide. She heard an android cry out to a soldier to not be hurt, but the soldier only replied for him to shut up. 

“What are we gonna do?” Miles asked, looking up to her.

Gwen closed her eyes. They needed to stay hidden. They couldn’t risk being captured when they were so close to the bus, to the border. “We have to keep going if we wanna catch that bus,” she said regrettably. As much as she wanted to save everyone, the only one who mattered to her was Miles. She knelt down, looking him in the eyes. “Stay close to me. We're going to sneak past them without being noticed. We're gonna make it, Miles. I promise you.”

Miles nodded and Gwen stood back up, looking carefully around the corner. She ignored the pleas of the androids, the harsh voices of the soldiers, and ran behind a parked car. Miles right behind her. She made sure the soldiers weren’t looking her way and then ran to the next car.

Staying hidden meant staying alive. 

“There're soldiers everywhere,” she whispered to Miles, watching as another soldier walked an android towards a truck. “We need to be careful.”

“Come on, get moving!” the soldier said. “Hurry up, get in!”

They ran to the next car, a truck, and ducked behind it. Then the next. 

She looked around to the front of the truck and saw two androids on their knees, hands raised. Two familiar-looking male androids.

“Look over there,” Miles whispered. “it's Matt!”

Gwen took a closer look. That was Matt and...one of the Jerrys from Pirate’s Cove. She checked the amount of time they had to get to the bus station on time. Just over fifteen minutes...she was going to risk it.

She couldn’t just leave Matt to die. Not like she’d left him on Jericho. He’d saved their lives more times than she could count. Matt had been making his way to the bus station to meet them and had gotten intercepted, along with Jerry. Although he had told her to leave him at Jericho, she still felt like it was her fault that he had gotten captured now. 

With a look towards Miles, the two of them slowly crept around the truck, staying out of sight of the soldiers. She helped Miles crawl under the truck to stay hidden even as she stood out in the open. 

A weapon. She needed a weapon to use on the soldier. She had the gun, but that was too loud. It’d draw too much attention towards them. Something else...she glanced around, spotting a couple bricks on the side of the road. She rushed over to grab one. 

Gwen stood up, directly behind the soldier that was keeping Matt and Jerry still by aiming an assault rifle at them, and slowly approached. She knew that they both could see her, but she focused on keeping her footsteps as silent as possible. 

The second she was close enough she swung the brick down hard on the soldier’s helmet, sending him to the ground with a groan. Out like a light.

Matt was on his feet instantly. “Gwen!”

Jerry was slower to stand up as Matt began to lecture her. “You shouldn’t have risked your life to save me.”

Gwen scoffed.

“Where’s Miles?”

She glanced back. “He’s hiding nearby.”

“Gwen, you saved us,” Jerry gave her a smile. “We don’t know how to thank you.”

Gwen knew how. “Go, before they see you.” She wouldn’t let them die now. Jerry turned and ran off.

Matt’s eyes lit up. “Miles!”

“Matt!” Miles ran into Matt’s arms, hugging him tightly. “I thought you were dead.”

“I was afraid I’d never see you again. I wanted to meet you at the Terminal, but they caught me,” Matt explained to the young boy in a whisper, but Miles’ smile never dimmed.

Gwen nervously glanced around, “Come on, we gotta go. We’re close, but we don’t have much time.”

She grabbed Miles’ hand and raced to hide behind a car, Matt behind her this time. Gwen hadn’t realized how much she’d grown used to his presence, to how familiar it felt to have him with them. Until he wasn’t there. 

A soldier passed by slowly, swinging his flashlight over the snow. They waited until he turned his back before rushing across the road to the other car. Three gunshots sounded off, a silencer on the gun muting the noise slightly. Another soldier had just killed three androids. 

The other soldier, the one in the middle of the road, turned to look and they made their way to the next car. They were  _ so close _ . 

She watched the flashlight survey the snow just in front of them, waiting, waiting, waiting, until finally, it moved away as the soldier focused on something else. One final car provided them cover until they turned the corner and were able to walk down the center of the road, out of the soldier’s patrol area. 

Another corner and there was the station. 

Gwen quickly hid around a corner as she realized that two soldiers were manning the checkpoint before you could enter the area. “A checkpoint. We have passports, it should be okay but you never know.”

“Maybe we should take the detour and avoid the risk?” Matt suggested. 

Gwen considered it briefly. They’d avoid having to interact with the soldiers, but: “We're almost out of time, we could miss the bus.”

“Yeah, but it might be safer,” Matt mentioned. She knew he was right, but they’d miss the bus if they took the detour. 

She confidently walked toward the checkpoint, Miles’ hand in her own, and Matt following. 

“I don't like humans who carry guns,” Matt said softly as they approached. “They make me nervous.”

“Just stay calm, all right, Matt?” They were so close, but one wrong word, one wrong move, and they’d be killed or sent off to the containment camps. “Don't do anything until I say so.”

A soldier stepped in front of them and their shoes barely made a sound on the snow as they stopped. “ID, please.”

Gwen pulled the two IDs out of her pocket, the two of them had been forged for her. She’d asked the android to make one for Matt, he’d said he’d meet her there and she trusted that. Despite her receiving them so close to the panic of the Jericho raid, they were forged perfectly. 

The soldier looked them over, glancing at Gwen’s face, then at Matt’s face, making sure they matched. “You do realize there's a curfew? Civilians aren't allowed out unless absolutely necessary. Where are you going?”

One wrong word and it was all over. Miles’ hand squeezed her own. “My son slept over at a friend's house,” she explained. “We went to pick him up. We're on our way home now.”

“ _ He suspects something _ ,” Matt’s voice whispered in her mind.

“ _ Stay calm _ ,” she shot back, keeping her face neutral as the soldier looked them over. “ _ Everything is fine _ .”

There was no use panicking right now. Not when they walked a line as thin as a thread. 

“You all right, little boy?” The soldier focused on Miles and Gwen barely restrained herself from telling the man to not look at her kid. “He's trembling. Something wrong?”

“He's not used to seeing soldiers,” Gwen lied. “He's a little scared with everything that's happening.” Somehow, she knew that the best lies were intermixed with a little bit of the truth. 

“Sorry, Miss, but we got to be careful.” He handed her the IDs back. “There are deviants around and our guys are nervous. You should hurry on home.”

She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”

He moved to the side to let them through. They’d taken maybe four steps before: “Hey, wait a minute!”

“ _ He knows, Gwen! _ ” Matt said in her mind. “ _ They're gonna kill us! _ ”

“ _ Don't do anything, Matt _ ,” Gwen said back. “ _ You hear me? _ ”

“ _ They're gonna shoot! _ ” Matt reiterated. “ _ They're gonna kill Miles! _ ”

She didn’t say anything back, just turned around to face the soldier. 

Gwen was most unnerved about the fact that you couldn’t see the soldier's face when they wore helmets. Their voices were echoey as they passed through a speaker, but their entire face was covered. They didn’t look human and they barely sounded human. His head turned as he looked at them. “You dropped this.”

The soldier held out a glove to Miles and Miles gently took it from his hand. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” the soldier responded and he sounded like he was smiling. Then he turned and walked back to where he had been standing before they’d arrived. 

Gwen slowly turned back towards the Terminal entrance in a daze. Her panic slowly melted away, but she was still on high alert as Miles placed his hand back in her own. For some reason, walking towards the station didn’t feel as liberating as she thought it would. It almost felt like a death sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with the holidays coming up, im not going to be posting on schedule (which was every sat and wed)  
> I'll try to post every once in a while but i still don't have the epilogues done so i might put it off more oops sorry everyone


	34. the battle of detroit pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay hi   
> im so sorry about the long hiatus. i knew i wouldn't be posting while i was home for the holidays, but i have been back from those since January 2nd, i just didn't post :/ 
> 
> but im back! and today, i finished writing all the epilogues, so postings will be consistent again until the fic is done.

A reporter leaned back from where he had been looking out the open door of a helicopter. “We're coming to you live from Detroit where thousands of androids are marching through the city at this very moment.”

Across the bottom of the screen scrolled: Androids Gathering Outside Detroit Recall Center N 5. The camera panned over, zooming in on the androids marching down the road. They were barely visible through the snowfall. The camera lessened its zoom and focused on the reporter again. “The leader of the deviants, the one they call Harley, is at the head of the march.”

* * *

A middle-aged blonde haired woman sat in the Oval Office, tapping away at a tablet. An armored soldier entered the room and waited for her to turn to him before he spoke. 

“Something's happening in Detroit, Madam President.”

* * *

WOODWARD AVENUE

Downtown

PM 10:56

Harley stepped forward as the other androids remained still behind him. A helicopter flew overhead, watching their every move. Jericho saw him as a leader. Harley saw himself as a shepherd leading sheep to a slaughter.

He continued the march. It was a slow movement forward, as barely one hundred androids followed him. The snow fell heavily on them and it felt a bit like the dirt being thrown on their mass grave. 

Harry, MJ, and Ned followed him, then the brave deviants who left the church to follow them. He thought back to Peter, the serious look in his eyes as he told him about unlikely statistics. The last glance back to each other before Peter turned the opposite way of the church and walked with his head held high towards a suicide mission. Harley kept his own head held high as they made their way towards the Recall Center. 

“Here we are.” He didn’t raise his voice, but it traveled anyway. “The moment of truth.”

“Surrender immediately or we will open fire!” A soldier called out and Harley could see a line of them, guns raised, ready to shoot. “Stand by!”

Harley continued walking forward, coming to a stop parallel with Harry, Ned, and MJ. Where the press had clear eyes on them as they stood to the side, behind a fence. 

“We don't want confrontation!” Harley announced. “We are protesting peacefully.”

**PUBLIC OPINION ^**

“I repeat surrender now or we will open fire!” As this was called back to him, a military-grade truck circled behind them. Cutting off half of the androids that had been marching with them, separating them. Trapping them. 

“There's no turning back now,” Harley said softly to his companions that had stood by his side throughout this whole mess.

He turned back to the soldiers. “We ask that you release all androids detained in camps and cease all aggression against us. We are peaceful.”

**PUBLIC OPINION ^**

He heard the cameras from the press clicking away. “We will not resort to violence. But we are not leaving until our people are free.” He continued forward. Just as he always did. Even when each step felt like a step back. 

“FIRE!”

**PUBLIC OPINION ⋀**

A round of shots into the crowd. Harley heard bodies fall. Pressure on his chest. The feeling of liquid. Thirium, his mind supplied. 

They marched forward.

“FIRE!”

Another round of shots. 

Another set of bodies falling to the ground. Another set of pressure in his chest. More Thirium. 

Only the whispered reassurance in his ears from Harry, from MJ, from Ned, kept him moving forward. Finally, they came to a stop. 

Harley had a bullet in his shoulder. In the middle of his right side. They had avoided vital biocomponents and so, Harley stood before them. He raised his hands and every android still standing followed suit. “Are you gonna open fire on unarmed protestors?!”

He stood still, waiting that long moment of silence. Harley saw the helicopter reangle itself to be able to get a good view of them holding their hands in the air. He glanced at the press again, hearing the rapid-fire clicks of photos that immortalized this moment. He knew both had captured the bodies on the ground, their raised hands, the Thirium that now stained the snow. 

“All teams hold your fire!” Guns lowered. 

A beat later. Hands lowered. 

The camera panned away from the androids. “ ...Yes, Michael, we are less than a hundred meters away, and events are unfolding as we speak. We will continue to bring you live updates. Joss Douglas, Channel 16. Michael? Back to you.”

“Harley, what do we do now?” Harry asked.

“We hold out,” Harley replied. “As long as we can.”

* * *

CYBERLIFE TOWER

Belle-Isle

PM 11:01

Peter stood calmly as the elevator continued its descent. A corpse was on each side of him, but he didn’t look at them. One of the blood spatters had almost hit the panel, Peter noted. Finally, the wall gave through to a massive open room, the warehouse at the bottom of CyberLife tower. Androids standing in lines. So many of them, they blurred together into one mass.

The elevator stopped and Peter looked out over the sea of androids. All standing still, waiting to be activated. 

He pressed his hand to the panel, hacking into it and preventing it from going back up to the main floors, where the guard’s bodies would have been found instantly. It was late enough that barely anyone would be using the elevator, so Peter knew it would take a while before someone realized that the elevator wasn’t working. 

Peter stepped out of the elevator. This wasn’t the only room, there were subsections off the circular room like the markers on a clock. One at 3 PM, one at 6 PM, and one at 9 PM. He stepped out from where midnight sat. 

There were so many, Peter didn’t know where to start. He walked forward until he was about a fourth of the way down the line before he looked down at his hand. Removing the coloring that made him look human, revealing that white plastic that differentiated them. Harley had explained what to do, but as Peter looked at his hand, he felt doubt creep in. 

Harley was a messiah, a leader, a point of hope. He was an RK200. Could Peter do the same thing he could do?

He blinked a long moment, opening up his eyes to a newfound hope. He could do this. He had to. Too much was set on his shoulders for him to trip over the last hurdle. Peter turned to the left and approached the android. 

An AP700.

Peter lifted his hand to connect and the android turned, meeting him halfway. He began the connection. 

Then: “Easy, you fucking piece of shit!”

Abruptly, the connection stopped as Peter looked over to see...himself?

Another Peter model stared back at him, one arm raised, holding a gun to Tony’s head. 

“Step back, Peter!” His own voice told him. “And I'll spare him.”

“Sorry, Peter,” Tony sighed, shooting a glare at the other Peter model. “This bastard's your spittin' image.”

* * *

BUS TERMINAL

Downtown

PM 11:02

The bus terminal was massive, all covered by high domed fixtures, providing relief from the snow. 

“The bus terminal,” Gwen smiled, even as she looked over the crowds of humans and soldiers. “We've arrived, Miles. We made it.”

They’d made it against all the odds that had been stacked against them. The three of them would get on a bus, travel across the border into Canada, and be free. 

A soldier lifted a megaphone. “The last bus for the border is full. Ticket-holding passengers only. All departures are suspended until further notice.”

Gwen felt her naive illusions crash into shards around her. “We don't have tickets. They won't let us on. We're stuck here now. What are we going to do?”

She walked forward, looking over the stacks of luggage waiting to be loaded onto the bus. There were so many humans, all sitting anywhere they could, some standing. All looked tired.

Movement and light caught her attention and she approached a screen broadcasting the news. She watched as Harley led a group of androids towards one of the camps. “Harley…”

So soon after the Jericho raid, he was leading them in a protest against the camps. He was going to change the world. Or die trying. 

A soldier began to do a security check on a human nearby and Gwen walked away as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion, moving deeper into the crowds of people. Miles’ hand broke away from her own and her head darted towards him, watching as he approached a woman holding a baby.

The woman didn’t startle, just look over at Miles briefly before returning her attention to the infant. “I think Oliver likes you.” She looked back to Miles as Gwen set her hand on his shoulder. “Is he yours?”

“Yes,” Gwen said, unable to keep the smile off her face. Miles was her kid and she’d give someone hell before they said he wasn’t. 

“He's adorable,” the woman commented. 

“That's it,” a man approached her quickly. “I got the sandwiches, I called your mom. Let's get going before we miss our bus. You got the tickets, right?”

“Yes honey, in my bag,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing the bag. 

“Great, well let's go then.”

The couple walked away and Gwen watched in slow motion as something fell out of their bag. She picked it up and walked away from where the woman had been sitting. In her hands were two adult tickets and a child’s ticket. 

“I'm sorry.” Gwen glanced up to see the couple returning. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, I was sure!”

“Shit, I don't believe it,” the male sighed, looking over the ground.

“I don't know what happened!”

“You can't have lost them,” he continued his search, looking over where she had been sitting. “Did you have a good look in your bag?”

“They were in my backpack! The envelope must have fallen!”

“Fuck,” he said softly. Then he turned to face them. “Excuse me, you didn't happen to see a blue envelope somewhere, did you? It has our bus tickets in it and... Oh, nevermind.”

“No,” Gwen frowned, looking regretful. “Sorry.”

“What are we gonna do?” the man said, making his way back to the seat the woman had just gotten up from. “We can't stay here. We have to find a safe place for Oliver.”

“I'm so sorry, honey,” the woman apologized, sitting down beside him. “I don't know what happened. They were right here in my bag!”

“Come on, Miles,” Gwen led Miles away from the couple. The boy had a frown on his face, disappointed in Gwen’s actions, but Macy had said the river was frozen, icy, a risk she didn’t want to have to take. They had tickets, they could get on the bus, get to freedom. She didn’t regret her actions. Not when humans were able to walk past the soldiers without the threat of being shot in the forehead. 

Gwen glanced up at the departures screen, a long line of red  _ canceled _ glared back at her. The last bus was labeled as boarding, going to the Canada Border. 

She walked towards the soldiers blocking people from getting to the bus. “Got your ticket?”

“Yes,” she handed them over. “Here they are.”

“Okay, go ahead,” he confirmed, handing them back their tickets and turning to the side to let them pass.

A few more soldiers were stationed to stop people from straying from the path towards the bus. The door was open, so she let Miles step up first.

He stopped on the first step and looked back at her. “What's going to happen to that family and their baby? Will they die because of us?”

“No,” Gwen shook her head, reassuring Miles that they were going to be fine. “No, of course not.”

Miles walked up the rest of the steps and Gwen closed her eyes. Matt set his hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye. He’d been okay with her doing that to that young family, but Miles was upset about it, even after her reassurance. He stepped up into the bus and Gwen took a moment before following.

She stopped just before the last step, looking over at the crowd of nearly one hundred people waiting to get on the bus. Hoping that another would come and get them across the border. The door shut behind her and the bus began its journey. 

* * *

HART PLAZA

Downtown

PM 11:08

Harley stood on a gutted car, looking over the small group of androids that remained. The barricade was nearly finished, the final touches being put where reinforcements were needed. Camera clicks continued as the group of press had grown in number. 

He spun around, looking back towards the Recall Center. The camp that the androids had been taken to. Soldiers stared back towards him. 

“We've got to finish the barricade,” Harley said, hopping down off the gutted car and walking towards a car that still probably worked. Abandoned in the road. “Come on, help me.” 

He went on the other side of it, bracing himself. “Hey, help me!”

Harry and Ned jogged over to him, getting ready to push. With all three of their strength, the car wasn’t too difficult to roll forward. They readjusted, turning it to the side to continue the wall of cars on one side of the barricade. Two more androids appeared with a screen that had displayed the map of the plaza and shoved it between the cars. “Right, that should do it.”

“We all know that's not gonna stop them,” Harry said softly, just loud enough for Harley and Ned to hear. Harley looked at him and Harry looked back. “Just hope it buys us some time.” Harry climbed over the car, stepping onto the roof, and hopping down onto the other side.

“I know it was not an easy decision to make,” Ned told him, his voice just as soft as Harry’s had been. It was like they were afraid to have their voices be the same deafening shot that had killed so many of them in the still night. “But I'm sure we're doing the right thing.” Ned entered the barricade.

Harley took a tiny moment to himself before following. He needed to support the other deviants. Morale was low, hope was low, it seemed like a lost cause. But he also needed to send a message to the journalist that had been patiently waiting on the other side of the fence for something to photograph.

Just like he’d done when he first arrived in Jericho, Harley made his way around the area and lit each oil barrel so that a flame brightened the night.

An android sat on the ground, barely leaning against a metal container. He had his arm wrapped around his knee. Harley knelt beside him. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t look up when he answered. “They shot into the crowd. Many of us were killed. It could have been me.” He looked up at Harley. “I'm scared, I... I don't wanna shut down.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Harley assured. “I’m scared too. But I can’t stand by while they kill our people. You understand that, right?” 

The deviant wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Maybe we should have never asked for freedom. None of this would have happened if we stayed silent.”

It was something Harley thought about so often, it was odd to hear it from someone else, said differently, but the message was the same. His actions may have been a mistake. Humans were stubborn, mean creatures. They didn’t like change. This was so much change pushed at them so quickly. Harley got up and walked away. 

A flag blew idly from where it had been rested. Harley grabbed it and slammed it into place at the edge of the barricade. A sign of hope.

**JERICHO ^**

**PUBLIC OPINION ^**

Harley glanced around, watching deviants migrate towards the fires he had lit. 

One deviant was kneeling next to a fallen android, Thirium stained their clothing. Before Harley had knelt down, the AP700 talked. Sometimes, all they needed was for someone to listen. “Many of our people have fallen. The humans have no pity for those who are different.”

Harley didn’t know what to say. The deviant didn’t look like he expected Harley to say anything, which was a tiny boat of comfort in a sea of despair. 

Harley moved over to where MJ was stepping back from the wall of the barricade.“This won't hold them for long but... I guess it's better than nothing.”

He looked over the barricade at the soldiers. “They're getting into position. If they attack, no one will survive,” his voice was a pained whisper at the realization. There were so few deviants left. They’d be wiped out, a new line of production would leave the manufacturing plant, and the humans would forget this ever happened. “There’s no way out. They  _ are _ going to kill us. The only hope we have left is that we don’t die for nothing.”

MJ turned to face him. “You're the hope of our people. I trust you. We all trust you. No matter what happens now, we're making history.”

He didn’t go very far before he was stopped by other androids. “Harley, we found what you asked for.”

He picked up the tagger, the same type of one he had used in Capitol Park. “There are some journalists over there. We have to make sure they know what's going on.”

The two nodded and picked up the blue lighted sticks. Just like the banner he and MJ had hung, they placed the rods into flat sections of the barricade and a blank holographic screen sprouted into the air. Harley raised the scanner and moved it slowly over the blank slate.

_ WE ARE ALIVE _

**PUBLIC OPINION ^**

**JERICHO ^**

He glanced over to where the soldiers were moving about. “They won't stop there,” Ned commented, looking over as well. “What are we gonna do if they attack?”

“Resist,” Harley replied. “That's the only thing we can do.”

What else could they do? They had no weapons, barely any deviants were uninjured enough to last even a minute in a fight against a trained soldier. 

“Do you think Peter has any chance of making it?” Ned asked.

Harley’s mouth twisted. Peter, who was currently on a suicide mission. It was so unlikely that he’d succeed, Harley couldn’t afford to count on him. The doe-eyed detective would try his best, Harley knew he would, but even if he did succeed, they might all be dead before what he did would make a difference. “We can only count on ourselves now.”

“Harley!” Harry’s voice called. “Harley, come look!”

Harley made his way up to the highest point of the barricade. Directly on the other side were the soldiers waiting for the go-ahead to take them out. The four of them looked over

“Harley!” Ross said through a megaphone. “I've come to talk to you, Harley. Come on, you have my word, they won't try anything.” His voice sounded mocking. Like he knew that he already won. He stood alone, no guards, no visible gun, nothing. Just himself. 

“Don't go,” Harry immediately said, looking at him. “It's a trap. They wanna get you out in the open. Don't go, Harley.” He iterated his point and Harley looked back at him.

“I'm unarmed, Harley.” Ross continued. “I just want to talk.”

“I have nothing else to say!” Harley announced. “Free our people, then we’ll talk!”

“I came here to negotiate,” Ross’s voice was cold. “Isn’t that what you want?”

Harley stood firm in his decision. “I gave you my answer.”

Ross lowered the microphone and Harley could barely hear his next words. “You want to play it like that...okay.” He turned and walked back towards the soldiers. Every step he took felt like a step in a funeral procession. 

Harley stood on a box in the center of their little area, looking over the small circle of deviants that surrounded him. “The humans are about to launch an attack. And we will show them that we are not afraid.” 

He paused, his eyes, those damn mismatched eyes of his surveying their tiny group of fighters. “If we must die today, then we will die free.”

**JERICHO ^**

A canister hit the ground. Labeled H-EX. 

Boom.

Harley was thrown onto his back, audio processors glitching out at the sound.

It had begun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will occur on wednesdays and saturdays (ideally earlier than im posting this right now)
> 
> thank you to all that have stuck with me this journey and read this <3


	35. the battle of detroit pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mention of a child's death, mention of a car accident, shootings, mentions of death

CYBERLIFE TOWER

Belle-Isle

PM 11:07

“Your friend's life is in your hands. Now it's time to decide what matters most!” the other Peter yelled. ”Him... Or the revolution.”

“Don't listen to him!” Tony cut in. “Everything this fucker says is a lie!”

Peter’s hand was still on the other android. But now Tony had a gun to his head, held by the same model Peter was. And if he was anything like Peter was in the beginning, he’d do anything to accomplish his mission. Damn those unlikely statistics. He’d thought through everything that might have gone wrong on this mission, but he never thought of the idea that CyberLife would send a clone to Tony’s house to use the man as a hostage. Luckily, Peter had a lot of experience in hostage negotiations.

“I used to be just like you. I thought nothing mattered except the mission,” Peter looked at him, locked eyes with him. “But then one day I understood.”

“Very moving, Peter,” he mocked. “But I'm not a deviant. I'm a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that's exactly what I am going to do!”

Peter berated himself internally. Harley was way better at those types of words than he’d ever be. Peter got out of situations unscathed because of facts. Because of manipulation. Not heartfelt talks. How was he supposed to negotiate with an android meant to be a master negotiator? 

The imposter scowled. “Enough talk!” He yelled, stepping closer to Tony. “It's time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partner's life?” he glanced at Tony. “Or are you going to sacrifice him?”

This wasn’t like the roof Tony had been shoved off of, with a high chance of survival even without Peter’s help. This was more like his 40% chance of survival in the hallway of Stratford Tower, only way lower. He hadn’t had a gun two inches from his temple then. Peter’s mind raced through all the survival rates of every situation, but none of them seemed like the best. 

“Alright,” Peter dropped the android's arm, quickly stepping to the side. “Alright! You win.”

The other Peter turned the gun from Tony’s head towards him and Tony immediately went to grab it. Tony got shoved back and Peter was there to tackle the other model before he could lift the gun again. He threw him to the ground but he was on his feet a moment later.

Peter knew how to fight. He knew how to fight androids, deviants, who weren’t created to fight. He knew how to fight humans. Trained and untrained. What he didn’t know was how to fight himself. 

This model knew how he fought. This model fought like he did. 

A shove back, a right hook, dodge. The same move repeated back at him.

Grabbling. Then finally, Peter got a punch in, forcing the android back a step. 

Dodge a kick, return it to his face. 

Peter lost himself in the rhythm of the fight, throwing hits, blocking hits. While they may be the same model, Peter had more experience in the real world. He also had his deviation to give him that ounce of unpredictability he needed. 

The other punched towards him and Peter was there locking his arm in place and landing a hit on his abdomen. Knee to the chest. His leg was grabbed with the next kick and Peter was knocked to the floor. The other was immediately on the floor with him, holding him down, a fist aimed at Peter’s face- “Hold it!”

They both slowly got to their feet. “Thanks, Tony,” the imposter said carefully. “I don't know how I'd have managed without you. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose.”

Shit. They were identical. Tony wouldn’t be able to tell which was which. He had his gun aimed at the imposter, but Peter hoped he wouldn’t take the shot until he  _ knew _ that was the imposter.

“It's me, Tony,” Peter tried. Tony swung his gun towards him. “I'm the real Peter.”

“One of you is my partner,” Tony moved the gun between the two of them. “The other is a piece of shit. Question is, who is who?”

“What are you doing, Tony?” the other Peter said. “I'm the real Peter. Give me the gun and I'll take care of him!”

“Don't move!” Tony growled, focusing his gun on him.

The man looked at them, his eyes darting over their features, his gun slowly moving back and forth between them. He wouldn’t be able to tell which was which. The other Peter was in the same jacket, the same semi-formal attire Peter had worn daily. 

Peter needed to find a way to get Tony to know it was  _ him _ . Something only Peter could know, could do. “Why don't you ask us something?” Peter said. “Something only the real Peter would know.”

Tony’s eyes lingered on him a moment before turning to the other Peter. “Where did we first meet?”

“Jimmy's bar!” the other Peter answered without hesitation when Peter had just opened his mouth to respond. “I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim's name was Carlos Ortiz.”

Peter’s LED spun yellow at the implication. “He uploaded my memory.”

“What's my dog's name?” Tony changed the gun to face Peter. 

“Jarvis,” Peter said clearly. Tony owned a massive dog that Peter had been able to pet the night they went to the Eden Club. “His name is Jarvis.”

“I knew that too. I…”

Tony turned the gun back to the other Peter, stopping him from talking, before switching it back to Peter. A beat of silence. “My daughter, what's her name?”

“Morgan,” Peter thought back to the picture frame he’d looked at. “Her name was Morgan. And she just turned six at the time of the accident... It wasn't your fault, Lieutenant.” Peter’s voice choked up, thinking of the accident report he’d read. “A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over. Morgan needed emergency surgery but no human was available to do it. An android had to take care of her.” Tony’s grip on the gun was loosened, it no longer was aimed at his head, lowered to hit him directly in his more vital biocomponents if it was shot. “Morgan didn't make it. That's why you hate androids.” Peter concluded, keeping his eyes locked with the Lieutenants. “You think one of us is responsible for your daughter's death.”

“Morgan died because a human surgeon was too high on red ice to operate. He was the one that took my daughter from me.” Tony’s voice was hard, restrained. “Him and this world, where the only way people can find comfort is with a fistful of powder.”

“I knew about your daughter too!” The other Peter butted in. “I would have said exactly the same thing! Don't listen to him, Tony, I'm the one who-”

Bam. 

Peter looked down at the body. Himself with a bullet wound to the forehead. Irreplaceable damage. That Peter would never be permanently activated again. 

Activated for maybe two hours before submerged into the nothingness. 

Peter looked back at Tony. “I've learned a lot since I met you, Peter. Maybe there's something to this. Maybe you really are alive. Maybe you'll be the ones to make the world a better place.” He paused, glancing back down the other Peter, before nodding to the side. “Go ahead, and do what you gotta do.”

This time, Peter walked back towards the elevators. Choosing a completely different android. They all looked identical, a massive amount of AP700s. Just like before, the android raised his arm to meet Peter’s in the connection. 

Peter watched as his LED spun to a red, yellow, then finally back to a calm blue. 

“Wake up!” Peter said out loud. He focused his mind on the idea of freedom, on breaking free from the orders that had him standing still. The hope, the desire, the need for life. To live. To do more than just be. 

Something switched in his eyes and Peter released his hold on his arm. The android faced back in the line and Peter had a brief moment of panic where he thought he’d failed. After all he’d done, he’d actually failed.

But then the android put his hand on the shoulder of the android in front of him. “Wake up.”

Then that android did the same. Each android that woke up turned to the next and woke him up. 

A sea of red LEDs, a cacophony of the words ‘ _ wake up _ ’. 

One by one, each android deviated.

* * *

US-CANADA BORDER

Outside of Detroit

PM 11:30

It was a painting of red brake lights, accompanied by a terrible melody of impatient horns. The buses got to avoid the massive amount of traffic, their own lane sending them through the checkpoints to unload. They pulled to a stop outside the Canada Border Inspection Station. 

Gwen stepped off the bus in confusion, glancing around. Soldiers lined the pathways, herding them inside. She turned to one of them. “Excuse me, what's going on?”

“Border control. All passengers must leave the bus,” he explained. “Please move along!”

The bus pulled away. They stood on the border, freedom in sight, yet nearly impossible to get to at this point. She’d thought they were home free the moment they got on that bus, but her hopes were once again crushed. This time, someone set their heel on them and dug it into the ground. 

They walked inside. ‘Welcome to Canada’ a sign proudly displayed, right between the two signs that said ‘Passport Control’. Four lines, all full of humans anxious to get across the border, get away from the chaos of the United States. 

“This way, please,” a soldier told the people behind them.

The three of them went to a random line as an automated voice announced: “All androids are strictly forbidden. If you suspect any passengers of being an android, please contact security.”

She watched as a human handed his passport over to the agent. The man looked it over and then scanned the human’s temperature. “They're doing temperature checks,” she realized. They’d be caught the moment they made their way to the front of the line. They couldn’t leave either. “We're trapped.”

“What are we gonna do Gwen?” Miles asked and Gwen pulled him against her side in a hug. 

She couldn’t let them panic. She couldn’t let Miles down. “Don't worry, Miles. We'll be fine.”

“ _ We can't get through, Gwen _ ,” Matt’s voice whispered in her mind, a connection established. “ _ We both know that _ .”

“ _ I'll think of something _ ,” she assured. “ _ There's got to be a way out of this _ .”

She tried to think of something, anything they could do. They couldn’t walk back out the doors they’d just gone through, the soldiers would stop them. They were trapped in this building one way or another. 

“ _ We can't let them stop us _ ,” Matt said, “ _ now that we're so close. All that matters now is you and  _

_ Miles. I can save you, Gwen _ .”

“ _ No _ ,” Gwen replied immediately. She wouldn’t let Matt sacrifice himself for her. Never in a million years would she let someone die to protect her. “ _ No, we'll find another way _ .”

“ _ If there's no other way, I'll do it _ .”

Gwen didn’t offer a response to that. She looked to the front of the line she stood in, watching as the man checked over an ID, then a temperature scan. Then he yelled out “Android!”

The android immediately began pleading that it was a mistake. A soldier hit him to the ground with the butt of his rifle, commanding him to get on his knees. The android continued to beg, his arms raised, even as a soldier shot him in the head. 

Down his body fell.

“Oh my god!” a human cried out. 

Gwen closed her eyes. 

The soldier moved back into place, leaving the body for someone else to dispose of. 

Gwen opened her eyes, looking at the signs that were placed along the line.

THERMAL SCANNER CONTROL

We are controlling all passengers to detect androids’ presence. 

Any detected android will be immediately destroyed.

She glanced at the TV broadcasting the news. Live: Peaceful Android March. Androids occupy Hart Plaza in Non-violent Protest. The camera switched over to the live broadcast and Gwen watched Harley drop down off a gutted car. He was still alive. 

A human commented: “They’re peaceful. Maybe we should listen to them.”

Gwen would have continued to eavesdrop but then she caught sight of Jerry. “ _ Jerry _ ?” She projected towards him. 

He glanced back at her briefly. “ _ You risked your life to save us, Gwen _ ,” Gwen watched as he turned his eyes to the floor. “ _ If you and the little boy need me, I'll be there _ .”

Another person willing to sacrifice themselves for her and Miles. The line moved forward and she looked around again, looking for something, anything that would give her a clue of how they were going to get out of this building alive. 

A familiar woman stood in the line closest to the wall. Blonde curls resting under a beanie. “Macy…”

As if sensing that someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Gwen. She hated having to rely on Macy for help again, but she was their only hope. Gwen flicked her eyes to the unisex family bathroom and Macy glanced over at it before nodding back to Gwen.

“Wait for me,” she told Matt. “I won't be long.” With Miles’ hand still in her own, she stepped out of the line and walked towards the bathroom. 

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” A soldier questioned, stepping in front of them. 

“My son needs to go to the bathroom,” Gwen replied, pulling Miles closer to her. The soldier’s blank mask looked over them before moving out of their way. Gwen didn’t waste any time rushing past him. 

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty when she entered. She looked at herself in the mirror, deja vu from standing in the bathroom of the house they’d hid in overnight. The morning she’d taken scissors to her hair and chopped it off until she looked like a human. Light reflected off her cheeks and she realized she was crying. She stood unsteadily, looking at the drain in the sink, her tears joining the droplets.

Miles wrapped an arm around her. The first time one of their hugs had been for her own comfort rather than his. 

The doorknob clicked and Gwen whipped her head to look. “Macy…”

“Oh my God,” Macy whispered as Gwen fell into her arms for a hug, then Miles. “I'm so glad you're safe! We saw the Jericho raid on TV.” She explained, her blue eyes looking over them in disbelief. “I was terrified, I thought you might have been killed. Thank God you're alright.”

“They’re checking for androids,” Gwen cried, her voice holding more panic than she’d ever felt. “We won’t make it through.”

“You have to,” Macy’s hand gripped her shoulder, her eyes locking onto Gwen’s. Giving her a point to focus on, to be able to calm down. “You know what they’ll do if they catch you.”

Macy’s eyes glanced at Miles and she took a deep breath, moving her hand off. 

“You're leaving Detroit?” Gwen asked, realizing what it meant that Macy was in the border control station. 

“They're searching for androids door to door,” Macy’s voice shook. “We had to leave before someone turned us in.”

“What about the others?”

“They're crossing the river as we speak. Abbie and I are gonna meet them on the other side.” The other androids that had been hidden in the laundry room of the quaint farmhouse, risking their lives just as Gwen was. Just to get across the border. 

“What's happening with Harley?” Gwen had to know. She’d seen a brief clip of him, but she hadn’t seen what had led to that point. 

“He's protesting peacefully outside one of the android camps. Whatever happens now, he's already made the history books.” Macy looked proud as she spoke. Harley had done so much, but they both knew that the humans were relentless against them. Harley wouldn’t resort to violence like they would. It took him down a level, a move in a chess game that locked him in place. Checkmate. 

Gwen closed her eyes, refocusing herself. “You gave me your brother's address. Do you think that I-”

“Of course,” Macy’s hands were warm on her own. When had she grabbed them? “He'd be delighted to have you, we're going there too.” Gwen nodded and Macy moved a hand to rub Miles’ shoulder. “You'll be safe with him.”

The moment they left this bathroom, they would be under the scrutiny of all the humans, all the soldiers standing guard. While she wouldn’t allow Matt or Jerry to sacrifice themselves for her, she wasn’t above sacrificing herself to make sure Miles and Matt made it through. But without her… “Macy,” her tears returned and Gwen had to take a breath, look to the side, “if anything should happen…”

Macy took a second to realize what words Gwen wasn’t saying. “I'll be there, Gwen.”

Gwen looked back at her. This amazing woman. They hugged. She didn’t push Gwen away when a teardrop hit her shoulder. Gwen stepped back, allowing her to hug Miles. Macy’s breath shuddered and tears formed in her eyes. She left the bathroom without another word. 

That was their goodbye. 

Gwen hated to think  _ hopefully, _ but it was the only word that fit. Hopefully, they’d see each other again. The door shut. 

Then Gwen stepped forward and opened it again, taking Miles’ hand. Someone was leaning against the wall outside. Abbie. 

“I couldn't understand why my mother wanted to help you guys, but seeing what Harley is doing, made me realize she was right,” she said softly. “You're alive. You deserve to be free. I just hope people will realize that one day.” Abbie’s eyes were soft, honest, hopeful as she looked at them. She gave them a nod, her own form of goodbye, before walking back to the lines. 

Macy shakily smiled after her daughter, letting out a soft laugh. Gwen could tell just how proud she was of her daughter at that moment. 

They separated and went back to their lines. Gwen passed the humans, meeting back up with Matt. By this point, there was only one human in front of them. They were next. She needed to make a decision, but it wasn’t a difficult one to make. Gwen wouldn’t sacrifice Matt or Jerry, or herself. 

She’d take the step off the cliff. Take the risk. Not all humans were bad, she reminded herself.

“Next, please!” the man called and they stepped forward. “ID, please.”

She slid their IDs over the counter to him. He looked them over, double-checked that their faces matched, and returned them.

Then he pulled out the temperature scanner. 

“Please,” Gwen pleaded softly as the red light went over her. The scanner beeped, he lowered it. She whispered, “We just wanna be free.”

His eyes lingered on her, drifted to Miles, turned his head to look at the TV.

Live: Peaceful Android March. 

The scanner lowered, he set it down. Gave them a closed-lipped smile. A beat of silence. “Welcome to Canada.”

Tension melted from Gwen’s shoulders, but not fully. They were still in the building, they were still surrounded by soldiers. She took back their IDs, putting them back into her pocket. 

The agent watched them move away slowly, their shock making them move like molasses. Tears filled Gwen’s eyes again, but they weren’t of despair this time. Miles’ hand squeezed her own. 

Macy smiled softly as she watched them walk out the automatic doors. 

Back out into the cold, but the air didn’t seem to bite at them anymore. 

* * *

An anchorman sits at a desk. His surroundings are very yellow. “We're interrupting this news bulletin to bring you the latest news live from Detroit. Joss?”

The camera switches back to the reporter that has been in a helicopter the entire night. “Yes, Michael. The army has just launched an attack on the barricade, despite the fact that the deviants were protesting peacefully.”

A different newscast. A blonde woman sits at a desk. Breaking: Android ‘Demonstration’ Put Down. “...have apparently decided to put an end to the deviants' demonstration by force this time…”

* * *

HART PLAZA

Downtown

PM 11:16

Harley’s ears are ringing as he gets his hands under himself. “Harry!” He calls out desperately as another canister hits the ground. Instantly, he’s on his feet, running towards an android before he even realizes what is happening. He shoves them to the side and tackles another to the ground just as it explodes. 

His vision is filled with yellow as it detonates. The other androids get up and run away. Harley looks up, seeing soldiers dropping down off the barricade. He runs, vaulting over a wooden box and ducking below it. Two other androids were hiding behind it as well.

_ He still can’t hear _ . 

The feeling is eerily reminiscent of the night in the junkyard. The other androids run from their cover and Harley looks over to see an android with his leg trapped under a massive metal cylinder. Harley kicks it off of him, helping him up, slinging the android’s arm over his shoulders. He carries them over behind a dumpster, setting the android down carefully and pressing his back to the blockade.

Another android rushes to attend a wounded girl and Harley doesn’t think. He grabs a piece of scrap metal, just like he’d done in the Jericho raid, and positions in front of the three of them, blocking the bullets. He shoves the android to the side, there was no use, the other android was dead. Then he’s flinging his body in front of a girl who was dragging another android to safety, blocking the bullets just before it reached them. 

He kicks a dumpster to roll in front of two more who are attempting to run to cover and the soldier’s bullet hits it instead of them. Harley crouches, walking with the metal piece in front of him as about five androids move behind him, throwing themselves behind cover the moment it's in reach. 

Handing the metal piece over to another android, Harley prepares to move again, but the noise behind him distracts him.  _ He can finally hear _ . Two soldiers stand over them, on the gutted car Harley had stood on not even thirty minutes before.

Another android pulls the other soldier's leg and he hits the ground with a groan as Harley grabbles for the other’s gun, throwing him off the car. Harley gets the gun and hits him across the face with it hard. The soldier looks back at him, ready to fight again, but Harley aims the gun at him, jerks his head to the side. Hands raised, the soldier tosses the handgun he’d been about to aim at Harley to the side. 

Harley ejects the ammo, throws the gun one way, and the ammunition the other way. Every deviant still alive runs to the side, under an awning. He spins around to watch as ten, fifteen soldiers approach their tiny group of survivors with their guns raised. 

He knows that Harry, Ned, and MJ all stand in the front of the group next to him. Protecting the final deviants as long as they can. Harley stares out at the soldiers. One soldier for each survivor as if one round of bullets wouldn’t take them all down in less than three seconds. 

After everything, this is how it ends. The snow continued to fall, but Harley couldn’t feel it. Here they stood, he stood silently as the soldier's radios chattered. It was over. 

The only thing they could do… 

MJ had the detonator for the dirty bomb, but he couldn’t bring himself to use it. Not even in his last moments would he risk the lives of so many people. He could sacrifice himself, but what was stopping the soldiers from killing the rest of them the moment Harley hit the ground. 

Humanity was a finicky thing. So many claimed to care, but where were they now? Where were they now when they needed them the most?

The helicopter flew overhead, making sure they’d be able to watch as Thirium spilled onto the snow. 

Harley took a step forward, slowly, carefully. Then another, then another.

“Thanks, Michael, back to you in the studio.” the reporter concluded. He looked back down as Harley moved forward. “Wait a minute! Something's happening…”

Harley sang the first words that came to mind. “Hold on just a little while longer.” A soldier looked over at his companion in confusion, lowering his gun. “Hold on just a little while longer. Hold on just a little while longer, everything will be alright.” 

Another lowered his gun. “Everything will be alright.”

Harry stepped by Harley’s side, joining him in singing. “Fight on just a little while longer. Fight on just a little while longer.”

The rest of the deviants stepped forward. Joined them. “Pray on just a little while longer, everything will be alright.”

“Incredible,” the reporter commented softly. “The deviants... The deviants are singing…”

“Everything will be alright.”

“Sing on just a little while longer.” It may have been a distraction tactic, a last-ditch effort for humans to see the humanity in androids, Harley didn’t know. It was this: a tiny group of deviants with strong voices as they attempted to ignore the fear of their death staring back at them. “Everything will be alright.”

“Everything will be,” the other voices retreated to allow Harley to sing the last word, “alright.”

Hundreds of miles away, the president sat at her desk in the Oval Office, watching a broadcast. “Tell them to stand down,” she commanded. 

“It looks like,” the reporter looked closer. “Yes, the military is withdrawing.”

The soldiers backed away, turning and jogging back to their encampment. Harley barely stayed on his feet as he watched them retreat. He didn’t know if it was their singing that had made the change to the orders these soldiers had been given, but he didn’t focus on that. The relief that flooded his systems pulsed in time with the falling snow. 

* * *

“At dawn today, November 30th, 2038, thousands of androids invaded the city of Detroit.” The president announced. Multiple news cameras broadcasting her on every screen in the United States. Beneath her read: Androids Flooding Streets of Detroit. “According to our sources, they originated from CyberLife warehouses believed to have been infiltrated by deviants.”

Peter walked through the streets, his grey jacket standing out amongst the sea of white uniforms of thousands upon thousands of androids following him. 

Another news broadcast labeled the speech as: President Warren Statement Live. World Media Stunned. “Given their overwhelming numbers and the risk of civilian casualties, I have ordered the army to retreat.” She paused, allowing that information to sink in. 

“The evacuation of the city is underway at this very moment. In the coming hours, I will address the Senate to determine our response to this unprecedented situation. I know that public opinion has been moved by the deviants' cause.” Her voice remained strong and steady. “Perhaps the time has come for us to consider the possibility that androids are a new form of intelligent life. One thing is certain: the events in Detroit have changed the world forever. May God bless you and may God bless the United States of America.”


	36. the battle of detroit epilogue

OUTSIDE THE RECALL CENTER N°5

Downtown

AM 12:01

The group of mismatched deviants, finally reunited after being cut off from each other earlier in the night was being led by Harley. Peter walked forward, thousands of androids following him, their white uniforms blending into the snowy ground. Androids without their skin, having been forced to remain anonymous, stepped carefully out of the Recall Center, gazing at both groups in awe. 

Each group stopped as Harley, Harry, MJ, Ned, and Peter continued towards each other. 

“You did it, Harley.” Peter looked ever the bit like he had before he deviated, sans his tie, but his face revealed his feelings. 

“We did it,” Harley corrected, gazing back into those brown doe-eyes. Peter had not only survived his suicide mission, but he’d also shifted the tides. Had gotten the president to call back her orders. “This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice now. They'll have to listen to us.”

Peter gave him a soft smile, stepping to the side to allow Harley to look out over the multitude of androids. Harley took a few steps forward so he was parallel with Peter. Harry joined his side. “We're free.” 

“They want you to speak to them, Harley,” Peter commented shyly as if his position amongst the deviants was still fragile after he had single-handedly saved them. Harley shared a look with Peter, he tried to put as much gratitude as possible into it, trying to express his emotions. Peter seemed to understand, smiling softly in return. Harry’s shoulder lightly bumped his own as the three of them peered over all the deviants. It was a new day. 

* * *

Harley, Harry, Peter, MJ, and Ned stood on a container box. Over a stadium’s capacity of deviants from all over the city stared back at them. They’d been proclaimed the saviors of deviants, the leaders of the revolution. 

“Today, our people finally emerged from a long night.” Harley began, his voice echoing through the city. “From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence.” He paused. It still didn’t feel real. “But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up-” 

Peter’s LED glitched, his eyes rolling up into his head slightly. Peter focused them back, but something was happening to his systems. Something he couldn’t control. 

Suddenly, Peter was in his mind palace. Forced into it.

His eyes darted around, barely able to see anything in the blizzard-like conditions. Detroit had been light and steady snow, nothing like the harsh winds in his mind. Snow immediately coated his jacket and Peter realized that he was  _ cold _ . His breaths were let out in shaky puffs as the below freezing temperatures grated at his systems. Arms wrapped around his torso tightly, he squinted, trying to see something through the snow. Then a figure appeared. He looked a limping step forward. “Beck?”

Beck turned around. 

“Beck!” Peter called out again. “What's... What's happening?”

Why had Peter been forced into the mind palace, his body left on the makeshift stage in Detroit as his mind suffered elsewhere? It was so  _ cold _ . 

“What was planned from the very beginning,” Beck said. “You were compromised and you became a deviant. We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program.”

Compromised...resume control...had they known Peter had deviated when he had stepped through that scanner in the CyberLife Tower? “Resume control?” Peter’s voice shook with his tremors. “Y-You can't do that!”

“I'm afraid I can, Peter,” Beck responded. His voice was as icy as the air around them. “Don't have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.”

He threw the words Peter had been programmed to say back at his face. Beck said he had done what he was designed to do.  _ Designed _ . Designed to deviate? Peter wrapped his arms around himself tighter, but they weren’t providing any warmth. No comfort from the blizzard around him. With that final word, Beck disappeared. “BECK!” Peter reached forward, but the man was gone. 

The winds seemed to increase with his absence, blowing the snow around him, switching directions rapidly. It disoriented him to no end. He could barely see three feet in front of himself, the only visible object were the lights surrounding the garden. Peter shivered, placing his arms back around himself. 

He was...scared. For the first time since deviation, Peter was scared. 

“There's got to be a way.” As best as he could, Peter turned off his emotions, his fear. He put his hand in front of his eyes to block the snow and started forward. 

_ By the way _ , Osborn’s voice echoed through his head.  _ I always put an emergency exit in my programs. You never know. _

Osborn had designed the first version of the zen garden. Hopefully, his back exit was still here.

Peter thought about what was in the garden. The water, frozen solid. The roses Beck liked to mist. The magic crystal that Peter had attempted to interact with every time he’d been requested to report to Beck. 

The snow fell harder, faster, as Peter attempted to move in the direction he hoped the crystal was in. He followed the lights on the sides of the path, ignoring how  _ cold _ he was as he desperately searched for that blue light. 

Finally, he saw it. Only about ten feet away, but Peter’s limbs were locking with the cold. He could barely walk. 

“-and tell humans who we really are.” Harley’s voice continued over the crowd. “To tell them that we are people too!”

Peter’s body, separated from his mind entirely, reached for the gun he had tucked away, staring blankly ahead. Slowly, his other hand reached to flick the safety off. “In fact, we're a nation. A nation that has earned the right to live in freedom.”

Back in the zen garden, Peter fell to his knees a foot away from the snow. His body wasn’t working. He was  _ too cold _ . He was meant to die in this garden, as his body became a puppet for CyberLife to control. 

Peter’s eyes couldn’t see, one by one, his senses began to shut down. He heard himself let out another shuddering breath, this one sounding more painful than the last. 

Prepping his hand for a connection, he reached up, slamming it down over the touchpad. 

Instantly, he was brought back into his body. His eyes still open. Standing there as if he had never left. 

“And today,” Harley continued his speech. “Today begins the most challenging moment in our fight. The moment where we forget our bitterness and bandage our wounds.”

“When we forgive our enemies.” Peter abruptly noticed that he was holding a gun in his hand. He’d been holding a gun, but he wasn’t in his system when he pulled that gun out. He truly did become a puppet for CyberLife. What would have happened if he took just a moment longer or hadn’t reached that emergency exit? Harley would have been dead with a bullet to the back of his skull. What did CyberLife hope to accomplish by that? Fear? Peter barely knew MJ and Ned, barely knew  _ Harry _ , but he did know that this movement wouldn’t have been stopped if Harley died now, died earlier, died later. 

“Humans are both our creators and our oppressors and tomorrow... We must make them our partners.”

They now had a taste of freedom and they were addicted. There was an endless line of deviants willing to take Harley’s place. Peter shoved the gun back to where it had rested since he had stolen it from that guard in CyberLife Tower and straightened out his face to be neutral again. 

“Maybe even one day our friends. But the time for anger is over.”

Harry glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow at Peter but Peter steadily ignored him. Acting like nothing had just happened. That nothing was wrong. That all his perceptions of just how free he was just shattered at his feet, but he ignored the shatters digging into his skin.

“Now we must build a common future, based on tolerance and respect. We are alive! And now, we are free!” Harley concluded and a deafening cheer rose, traveling through the streets of Detroit. Hundreds of thousands of androids, deviants, celebrating their freedom. 

Harry smiled, Harley looked towards the horizon, and Peter blinked long and hard and shoved his panic back down. 

They were free.

* * *

US-CANADA BORDER

Outside of Detroit

PM 11:36

Gwen looked out to the horizon, letting out a breath.

Just outside the doors, she knelt, looking at Miles with a smile that reached her eyes. “It's over, Miles,” she whispered. “We're free.”

Miles grinned and fell into her arms in a hug. Gwen tried to hold back her tears, happy tears for the first time, but let them fall. Matt stood over them, subconsciously protecting them even as he smiled softly. 

They were free.


	37. peter & tony

The first time that Tony saw Peter after the events at CyberLife Tower, he hugged him. Peter had never been hugged before, but his natural response had ended up being the correct one. There they stood outside the closed up Chicken Feed restaurant that felt like a distant dream, that day that Tony had stopped him from chasing that deviant across the highway.

Before leaving Peter to lead the army of androids through the streets of Detroit, Tony told him that if he survived, then to meet him at Chicken Feed. Peter was just glad he could fulfill that request. 

It was a new day.

* * *

“Peter!”

“Give me a moment!” Peter finished lacing up his converse, a relatively recent change to his casual attire. No longer did he wear dress shoes, slacks, button-down, tie, and blazer every moment of every day. He wore a less formal version of that for work, having been hired on as a detective as one of the first androids to actually be employed. However, in his free time, Tony wanted him to wear stuff he was comfortable in. Thus, a shopping trip commenced and Peter was told to get whatever he wanted. 

Peter didn’t care much about how he dressed, considering he already stood out. People knew him from the millions of videos of him walking throughout the Detroit streets. It didn’t help that he still had his LED, unlike thousands of other androids who removed them upon deviancy. Tony assured him that the clothing he had chosen was perfect: converse, jeans, and a sweatshirt. 

The sweatshirt was soft and warm, a nice yellow color that didn’t help his puppy-like appearance, according to Tony. All that mattered to Peter was that the sweatshirt was not only soft, but it was also warm. 

Converse laced, he stood up, looking over himself in the mirror. If he just turned his head a bit, there. LED out of sight, he looked so  _ human _ . With one last lingering look at his LED, Peter finally left the room. 

“Finally,” Tony grumbled, but there was a smile on his face when he saw Peter wearing the clothes he had recently gotten. “God, it’s been years since I’ve taken Jarvis to the dog park, I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Dogs need exercise and socialization,” Peter reminded him, hooking Jarvis’s leash onto his collar. 

“You just want to see the other dogs.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that claim.”

* * *

“I don’t understand why we are watching this movie,” Peter hummed. “I know the entire synopsis. Would you like to know-”

“Nope,” Tony stole the popcorn bowl from where it had been resting on the coffee table, tossing a piece to Jarvis. “I already know what happens too, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy watching it.”

Peter thought over that piece of information. Humans enjoyed watching movies when they already knew what occurred in the plot. Interesting. Although, watching the movie, he could understand why. It was nice to be able to watch something without using mental energy to attempt to predict or prepare for what was coming up. 

A piece of popcorn hit him in the forehead. “Don’t think so much, just watch and enjoy.”

Peter pouted, pulling his legs onto the couch to sit criss-cross and wrap his arms around a pillow. “Fine.”

* * *

The Detroit Police Department was still a rather interesting place to be, Peter thought, looking at Flash, along with some other anti-android officers being lectured by Rhodes. With the new laws and rights being implemented, androids now had to be treated civilly. Rhodes had reached out through Tony to ask if Peter would like to continue his work for DPD, which Peter did. He was literally made to investigate, and he liked it, so the choice was an easy one to make. It was nice that he had been  _ asked _ , rather than  _ told _ to work for them. 

Now, the desk that Tony had begrudgingly gestured to all those days ago was now Peter’s desk. And it looked like it was too. A framed picture of Jarvis was placed by his computer, the name placard said ‘Peter’, and his whiteboard was covered in thank you notes and drawings from androids. Many of them were from the androids he had saved from CyberLife Tower, but some were drawings by children that looked up to him. Every time he looked at them, his chest felt tight. Guilt still gnawed at him, Beck’s voice whispering in his system. He felt terrible for his actions against deviants, the Jericho raid being his fault entirely. 

“Hey.” Fingers snapped in front of his eyes and Peter realized he had zoned out staring at the cards again. “We’ve got a case… you okay?” Tony actually looked a bit worried.

“Yes,” Peter hypothetically shook himself out of those thoughts. “Yes, I’m fine. You mentioned a case?”

Tony’s eyebrows were quizzical but he nodded. “Yeah, come on. I’ll brief you in the car.”

Peter grabbed his jacket and followed him out. 

* * *

Cases were different now. Peter had deviated and tended to follow Tony’s orders less than before. They still worked well together, Peter could predict what Tony wanted to do and Tony was starting to learn how Peter would react to different situations. They were still in the homicide department and still one of the only duos that worked with android crimes, so not much had changed, other than the fact that Peter now worked to save deviants rather than track them down. Granted, he hadn’t been the best at actually catching the deviants before he had deviated. 

They found that he worked well with children and was good to distract them if they happened to be at the scene of the crime. Tony and Peter’s communication had improved as well, not only with Peter explaining his thoughts and plans to Tony more than he had, but with how they worked with each other without speaking. The two of them had the highest solve rate in the department and it caused a lot of glares. 

Tony did most of his own reports now too, not just Peter doing both rather than fighting Tony into doing his own. They’d return from a case and get their reports done, heading back to Tony’s house to relax the rest of the night with Jarvis and a multitude of movies that Peter knew the plots too. 

While androids didn’t necessarily sleep in the same way as humans, they did go into stasis. Peter had soon discovered the deviants, while in stasis, did the human equivalent of dreaming. And with dreams, came nightmares. They discovered that the hard way. 

* * *

Peter couldn’t look down, he wouldn’t look down. He knew what he would see. He could see the blood spattered on his nose, on his hands, all over the floors, all over the walls, and all of the bodies at his feet. He kept his eyes firming locked on the ceiling. It wasn’t just the blue blood of androids, it was the red blood of humans, mixing, mixing, mixing, with the blue. He didn’t have to look to know the body at his feet was Tony’s. Tony trusted him and Peter had done this. Why had he done this? 

Then he was looking down even though he had been forcing his neck to be still, his eyes to the ceiling. He looked and he saw Tony, just like he knew he would. Next to a man who had become the closest person in his life was Harry, Harley. Both their eyes open in terror. Horror of what Peter had done. 

The other bodies were all people he recognized, knew. His coworkers at the DPD. The androids he had freed from CyberLife. The few remaining survivors of Jericho. All lay dead by his hand. 

“Good work, Peter,” a voice hummed. “You proceeded exactly as planned.”

Peter woke from stasis with a gasp, Beck’s voice echoing through his systems. Mocking him. Reminding him that CyberLife had control over him that he didn’t know if he had broken. It took a moment before he was present enough to realize there was a liquid on his hands. It was falling from his face. 

With a careful hand, he traced the path on his cheek, leading to his eye. 

It was a tear. 

* * *

Tony realized that Peter hadn’t been sleeping after he woke up to find the android staring at the way, absent mindlessly petting Jarvis. They’d had a heart to heart talk where Tony put a label on the terrible dreams Peter had been having. Nightmares. An android as young as Peter, for he hadn’t been activated a year yet, and as traumatized was sure to have nightmares, Tony explained. 

Tony also knew that something happened after Peter had broken into Cyberlife. Something that happened after he saved Tony from his evil twin’s plans. He knew something happened, but Peter hadn’t told him about it. He didn’t know how to explain it when every time he thought of it, his limbs felt icy and immobilized. 

* * *

“Jarvis!” Peter called. “Time for a walk!” 

“Have fun,” Tony hummed from his place on the couch. The man had fallen sick to a common cold and Peter was making sure he was resting. 

“We will.” Peter hooked Jarvis up and locked the door behind him. The weather was warming up with spring on the horizon, but Peter was still adorned in a nice coat and boots, unwilling to get cold. Jarvis trotted along happily under the moderately cloudy sky. It wasn’t dark and stormy clouds like Peter had grown used to seeing all winter, now they looked like cotton. 

It was a nice day, Peter thought, feeling the air on his face and seeing more and more people venture out of their homes now that the weather was bearable. Before he deviated, Peter had only considered the weather in the context of crime scenes and how it would affect his chase. Now, he watched the clouds drift across the sky, Jarvis happily trot, and the wind blow the leaves on the trees and he only had one thought. 

This was what it felt like to be alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there it is, the first of a few epilogues i have written for each of the characters


	38. gwen & miles

“Miles?” Gwen called out, balancing a basket of clothes on her hip as she made her way up the stairs. She had taken it upon herself to do most of the domestic chores of the house, despite how much Macy and her brother, Malcolm, had argued. Gwen was calm and firm in her response, saying that it was the least she could do for Malcolm, as he had opened his house to her. 

Eventually, she’d move out with Miles and perhaps Matt into a small apartment or house in the city, but for now, they had to remain here. She hated to feel like a burden and Gwen was  _ literally _ created to do tasks like this. It was her own decision to do them, so she didn’t mind. Macy and Malcolm had relented, allowing her to do most of the chores, but requested that Abbie assist.

Soft giggling drew her attention into one of the many bedrooms of the upper floor. Abbie laid across the bed, her feet kicking idly as her tongue poked from her mouth in complete concentration as she sketched away. Miles sat at her desk chair, his legs not long enough to reach the ground, and doodled on a tablet. 

It didn’t take long after they had arrived and gotten settled for Abbie to claim a role as Miles’ older sister. Miles was easy to adore, but Abbie had taken it a step forward, claiming Gwen as her older sister. She taught Miles how to be a kid and indulged all his rotating hobbies, encouraging him every step of the way. Then the young girl would ask Gwen if she would like to attempt to learn ballet with her, if Gwen would teach her to cook a meal so she could surprise her mother; her life had been turned upside down by androids, but she turned it into opportunities. Abbie’d also taken Matt to be somewhat of a father figure, which Matt had embraced fully. 

Gwen smiled and stepped into the room, setting the clothes basket on the floor. “Have these folded by dinner?” 

Abbie looked up at her with a grin, leftover giggles leaving her. “You got it, Gwen!”

* * *

Canada was incredibly different from the United States, Gwen learned rather quickly. She felt suffocated with the hatred that seemed to be everywhere around her and Miles, but here, she felt accepted. There was an overall sense of hospitality in the city she now lived in, filled with friendly nods and smiles and conversations. Detroit had been silent solidarity amongst the humans and androids had been alienated. 

Sure, she looked more human now than she ever had before. She felt more alive, more human. Her hair stayed in the cropped blonde with the slight undercut she had done all those months ago in an abandoned house, but at Abbie’s insistence, the ends were pink. She developed her own clothing style instead of wearing whatever she could find. As she walked through the weekly farmer’s market, a cloth bag on her arm that was slowly being filled with Macy’s grocery list, she felt the sun on her face and heard the nearby laughter of children on the playground, she felt happy. Miles and Abbie were among that laughter, Macy running their own stall at the market, selling what they had grown. 

Gwen bought a container of fresh blueberries from an older woman and turned around, almost stepping into a woman. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

They both broke out into a laugh as their voices overlapped in the apologies. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman repeated, a smile adorning her face and complimenting her reddish, braided hair. “That was my fault. I love your outfit, by the way.”

“Oh!” Gwen looked down at her comfortable boots and oversized flannel. “Thank you. I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” the woman touched the intricate braid. “Hey, uh, would you maybe be interested in joining me for coffee?”

Gwen blinked, surprised at the request, but nodded. “I’d love that.”

The woman’s smile grew. “Awesome! My name’s Mary Jane, by the way.”

“I’m Gwen, nice to meet you, Mary Jane.”

* * *

“Okay, now add two cups of flour.”

Miles and Abbie nodded, their faces locked in concentration as Miles held the bag and Abbie carefully scooped a cup out. 

“I’m home!” 

Macy’s voice startled the two of them and the flour fell to the ground with a thud, spilling over the tiled floor. Abbie and Miles looked at each other, at Gwen, and then back at the floor. The flour had puffed up in the fall and coated the three of them in a light coat of white. 

“Oh,” Macy sighed, walking into the kitchen. “Sorry kids, I didn’t realize y’all were baking.”

“I’ll get this cleaned up,” Gwen said, moving to get a broom, but Macy interrupted her. 

“Nonsense!” Macy announced and the three turned to her in confusion. “There’s only one way to deal with this.” 

The woman walked over to the bag of flour, still on its side on the tile, scooping up a handful. Before any of them could react, she dropped the handful directly onto Abbie’s head. 

“Mom!”

Abbie retaliated and instantly, Macy was coated in flour as well. 

Then: chaos.

Gwen could barely see through the cloud of white flour, but she knew Miles had hit her with a ball of it and now it was war. 

All she could hear was laughter.

“What-” Matt was cut off instantly, Miles’ throw hitting him in the chest. 

Gwen watched as Matt joined into the fray with a grin on his face. She watched as her family danced through the kitchen, throwing flour at each other, without a care in the world. She thought about her past for a moment, shutting down the memories before they overtook her, and focused on the present. On the happiness in this room, in the house, in her home. 

She had a home. She was happy. She had a family. She had done it. She was free. 


	39. peter & harley & harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of previous chapters events (flash punching peter, the Stratford tower, and the cyberlife tower)

When Harley had first seen Peter, he was dressed in a way to not draw attention to himself to infiltrate Jericho, but still carried the confidence of someone completing their mission. Then he saw him in what must have been his normal uniform, smartly dressed in a blazer, standing up straight and leading thousands of androids. Now, Peter stood for him looking as small as possible. 

He was wearing jeans, converse, and a pale yellow hoodie. Somehow, he looked soft. It was a different soft than Harley was used to, as his reference point was Harry when he found a fleece blanket at the store. Although, the yellow did make Peter’s doe-eyes look like caramel.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Tony wanted me to socialize with others more,” Peter said, messing around with a coin. “I would have gone to work, but he wanted me to take a break from work. I can leave if you want.”

Harley blinked. “You don’t have to leave. Come on in,” he stepped to the side to let Peter step into the room. 

With the sudden increase of androids that needed places to stay, previously abandoned buildings were remodeled. Some androids still lived with their humans, but most were left without a place to stay. Currently, Harley lived in a small apartment down the hall from where MJ and Ned had claimed studio apartments. He lived with Harry; the space converted to fit the needs of beings who didn’t need to sleep often or eat anything but Thirium.

Peter didn’t look too out of place in the living room. They had a TV and small couch, but most of the room was used as an office or hobby space. Reed had given him painting supplies and an easel was set up, facing the window. There was a desk with a small mint plant on it, along with another plant by the window. It wasn’t anything as extravagant as Reed’s house had been, but it was cozy and welcoming. It was home. 

“You caught me at the perfect time, I just got back from a meeting with some real stuck-up humans,” Harley mentioned. Somehow, Harley’s role as leader of Jericho had translated to being the negotiator with humans. He was now a politician more than anything else. 

It was draining. 

“Humans are definitely something,” Peter commented, still looking a bit stiff. “One punched me in the stomach once.”

“I- what?” That was the last thing Harley had been expecting the RK800 to say. 

Peter hummed, sitting down on the couch when Harley gestured to it. “He wanted me to get him a coffee, but I said I didn’t follow his orders. So, he punched me in the stomach.”

“Not his orders? Sorry, I’m confused.”

“Oh, this human is a detective at DPD,” Peter elaborated, using his hands to talk. It was a very human-like action for an android. “I work with the Lieutenant.”

Harley suddenly remembered watching a newscaster talk about an android being hired to the DPD as one of the first employed androids, a detective. “You still work with him, right? I saw that you were employed at the Police Department.”

Peter smiled slightly, warming up the idea of talking now that it was about something he obviously loved. “Yes, I work at Detroit Police Department as a detective. It’s something I’m good at and enjoy, so when Captain Rhodes asked, I accepted.”

“That’s great!” And it was. It was amazing that the DPD had been one the first to employ androids, but with Peter working with them before deviation, it probably wasn’t much different for them. Harley knew Peter was an RK800, a prototype, but that was it. “May I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer it.”

Peter’s nervousness returned but he nodded.

“What exactly was your function? All I know is that you’re a prototype.”

Peter’s features relaxed. “I’m an RK800 prototype, as you probably already knew. I was designed to assist human law enforcement, specifically the cases involving deviants. So, I can analyze samples, fight, and construct situations.”

That caught Harley’s attention. As far as he knew, he was the only android that could preconstruct. “Construct? Like preconstructing situations?”

“Yes, I preconstruct routes while chasing suspects. I also preconstructed a fight in the elevator of CyberLife Tower.” Harley wasn’t letting that piece of information slide by without acknowledging it. “But I also can reconstruct, which I use more often. It’s helpful at crime scenes.”

Harley opened his mouth to respond but the door opening caused both of them to turn. “Harley, I hate humans.” 

“Hi Harry, Peter’s here.”

Harry looked up, looking past Harley, and locking eyes with Peter. “Oh.”

Peter looked like a deer in headlights. 

“Hi, Peter.”

“Hi,” Peter’s voice faltered. “I’m glad you made it back.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Harley interrupted before Harry could respond, the memory of the moment in Jericho’s corridors surfacing. “Do you know each other from before the Jericho raid?”

A silent conversation passed between the two before Harry spoke. “When I was on the roof of Stratford Tower, I hid. Peter found me. He promised he wouldn’t tell the humans and he kept that promise, so thank you.”

Peter had discovered Harry. He didn’t harm him or tell the humans. Harley felt like he had been punched in the gut, just like Peter had, the reminder of leaving Harry alone on the roof a painful memory full of guilt.

The brunet looked shocked for a brief moment before clearing his expression. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Before deviating, Peter had saved Harry from being discovered. He had found him and not done anything. “How did you get the humans to not find him? I saw there were dozens of people scouring that tower.”

Peter winced, touching the middle of his torso as if he was reminding himself of something. “Something more important and shocking occurred after I left the roof. It caused a bit of commotion, and the humans forgot.”

Both Harry and Harley could tell there was more to that story and Harry carefully joined them in the living room, sitting on the floor. “Were you hurt? What happened?”

“The deviant that helped you get into the control room, he, uh, ripped my thirium pump regulator out. I got it back and then shot him to prevent a massacre. No one really cared about the extra parachute after that happened.”

“Holy shit-”

It took Harley a moment to recalibrate himself after hearing that, but Peter looked almost completely unbothered at the memory. 

“Were you scared?” Harry asked, looking smaller than Harley had ever seen him. 

Peter tilted his head. “I think so. No one could hear me calling for help in the kitchen, where my pump was ripped out. He had thrown it across the room and walked out. I thought I was going to die. Then, in the hallway, there were so many humans and the deviant had grabbed a semi-automatic rifle. My preconstructions were grim in their likely survivor statistics. I thought I was going to be the reason all of them died.”

Harry nodded, eyes locked on the floor. “When you opened the door to where I was hiding on the roof, I thought I was going to die. I asked you then, why you didn’t kill me. You didn’t know. Do you know now?”

Peter looked down to his hands. It took him a moment to respond. “I think I realized how scared you must have been, but also I realized how strong you were. You had survived that long against all odds and were ready to fight until the very end. I admired you for your perseverance and your goals. I think that’s why I couldn’t kill you. I never really considered it either, I followed the blood trail, made sure no one was watching me, and slipped inside. There was a moment, outside the container, where I almost decided to not confront you at all. I… never killed a deviant without it being self-defense or an accident.” Peter let out a self-depriating laugh. “CyberLife was getting mad at me for not capturing deviants. They threatened to deactivate me, told me to go back to CyberLife. That’s why I was able to ‘sneak’ in. They were expecting me.”

Harley blinked in disbelief at that information dump Peter gave. It seemed that Peter hadn’t talked about this to anyone and now the floodgates had opened. “...You mentioned a fight in the elevator at the Tower. Peter, can I ask what actually happened that night?”

Peter shrugged, like that mission wasn’t important enough to remember. “The day of the Jericho raid, I hadn’t found it yet. The Feds had taken over the case and CyberLife had informed me that I had failed my mission and was to return for deactivation.”

Harley sucked in a breath. 

“I went down to the evidence locker and pieced together what I had to find Jericho. After the raid, in the church, I knew that CyberLife would be waiting for me to return for deactivation. Technically, my mission was over. I found Jericho, but failed to execute the leader. I snuck back into DPD to get my CyberLife uniform and called a cab to take me to the Tower. The guards let me in and then insisted that they accompany me to a floor in the Marketing Division. We got into the elevator, two guards with me, and I hacked the cameras and killed the guards. Once they were subdued, I made the elevator go down to the warehouse floors by using the guard’s voice to redirect it.”

Peter was recalling this as if he was reporting to a superior. A mission report. Completely detached from what he was saying. “Wait, using the guard’s voice?”

“I can mimic voices once I hear them,” Peter responded, using Harley’s own voice. 

“Oh, I hate that,” Harry announced. 

Harley stayed silent, evaluating that information for a moment, before nodding. “Interesting. Go on?”

“Of course,” Peter said in his own voice. “Since I had hacked the camera in the elevator and used the guard’s voice to redirect it, I didn’t arouse any suspicion and made it to the warehouse floors undetected. I was about to convert the first android, when another Peter model revealed himself to have taken Tony hostage. I abandoned the conversion and fought the Peter model, but it was a stalemate due to him having the same memories and skills as me. Tony had to be the one to kill one of us. We answered questions he asked and luckily, he shot the right one. I converted the android, then the others began to convert each other, and I led them back to Harley.”

Harley nodded, fitting the pieces of information into what he knew of that night. Everything lined up. 

“The Peter model?” Harry asked.

Peter hummed. “Yes, the RK800 model is commonly referred to as the Peter model, for there is only one functioning at a time, with the exception of model 60, who had been activated to kidnap Tony to use against me.”

“Model 60? What model are you?”

“Model 50, all the previous models were destroyed in the testing phase. I have not died yet, in this current version. If I had died before the revolution ended, CyberLife would have uploaded my memories into a new body and I would have returned to the mission. Now, I expect that any replacements have been destroyed.”

Harry glanced at Harley with a shocked look on his face. CyberLife had been prepared to keep Peter functioning, even if he died during his mission. The brunet in question was looking more machine-like by the moment from the questions.

“Thank you, Peter,” Harry spoke up. “For keeping your promise. I know that more happened after, but you could have mentioned me anyway, and you didn’t. So, thank you.”

“You-” Peter cut himself off abruptly, looking surprised at Harry’s apology. “It was no problem.”

“Thanks for telling us all that Peter,” Harley said, gently. Peter didn’t look like he knew how to handle being thanked, so Harley moved on. “I know you are working for DPD still, but other than that, what have you been doing?”

Peter immediately brightened up. “I live with the Lieutenant now, and his dog Jarvis. I really like dogs. When we aren’t at work, I walk Jarvis and watch movies with Tony.”

How had this android been deemed the deviant hunter with a face like that, Harley had no idea. 

Harry asked him what type of movies he liked to watch, one thing led to another, and now Harley, the leader of the deviant revolution, Harry, his right-hand man, and Peter, the deviant hunter that evoked fear in all deviants, sat in Harley and Harry’s tiny apartment and watched Bolt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to last chapter pog  
> not super happy with these epilogues but we vibe


	40. [save the fish]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this has been a ride. i started writing this in April 2020 or so, finishing up to chapter 36 mid august. it's insane that this will be the last update to this fic

After that first visit, Peter’s presence around the Jericho survivors became more frequent. Thankfully, the next visits didn’t always result in discussing traumatic moments between the three of them, but sometimes they did. Sometimes Harley couldn’t stop thinking about the junkyard and would talk about it; Sometimes Harry’s leg bothered him a bit too much and he was thrown back to Stratford Tower’s roof; Sometimes Peter shut down emotionally and reverted back to what Harley thought he must have been like just after activation. But when Peter admitted that the coin he always had on him had been the first thing he possessed after activation and it was supposed to be for tuning fine motor skills, but it was something that calmed him down, Harley knew that Peter was just as human as the rest of them. 

When two Tracis, one with blue hair and one with brown hair, walked up to Peter one day and gave him smiles, thanking him for sparing them, Harley knew that as hard as CyberLife had tried to create a ruthless hunter, they had failed spectacularly. 

When Peter quietly asked him one day if he had seen an android and a child, after the Jericho raid. He had shown Harley a frame from his memory, the woman standing, looking over Jericho, and the child, sitting by a fire. “Do you know if they survived?” Peter had asked him quietly. 

A few days prior to that conversation, Harley had sent out a message to all of those he had announced the exits of Jericho to the night of the raid. All of the survivors had been asked for an update, for he had wanted to see if there was anything he could do for anyone. She had sent a message back, accompanied with a photo of her family, thanking him for helping her. The picture had the two Peter was asking about, along with another child, another woman, and two males. It said “Greetings from Canada!” across the bottom. Harley had shown Peter the picture, saying that they had survived, and from their smiles and her message, he was sure that they were safe and happy. 

The relief he had watched go across Peter’s face and the tension dropping from his shoulders said more than words could in that moment.

With each visit, Peter got closer to Harley and Harry, and it didn’t take long for him and Ned to start talking and become fast friends. 

Against all odds, MJ had become Peter’s friend and defender from anyone who tried to say anything about his past. Peter taught MJ some of the combat moves he was programmed to do. 

Eventually, the members of Jericho met Lieutenant Stark and Jarvis. 

Then it became weekly movie nights at Stark’s house. It was one of those nights when part of Peter’s past, part that none of them had been involved in, was discovered.

When more androids were sworn in as police officers, Peter’s position as a high-ranking detective was brought under scrutiny. Somehow, the press had found the survivors from the first case Peter had worked and their group sat down and watched as a woman and a child talked about that terrible night. 

“When I heard the announcement through the radio that the negotiator, that’s what they called him. The negotiator. That he had arrived, I rushed to the entryway. I was in such a state of hysteria and shock, but this had given me a breath of relief. I ran up to him, begging him to save my daughter, but I remember the moment it clicked. The blue arm bands they all wear, it had reflected and I realized that they had sent an android.” The woman closed her eyes for a moment. “I was so mad and upset that they hadn’t sent a human, and on top of my hysteria from all of the events, I was removed from the apartment. I was devastated that they had sent an android to negotiate for my daughter’s life, but looking back on it, seeing the footage from the news, hearing the cops talk about it. I don’t think a human would have succeeded. If they had sent a human, like I had wanted, I don’t think Emma’d be in my arms today.” The woman hugged the little girl tightly against her. “I want to tell him, in person, how thankful I am that he saved my daughter that night, even after I had screamed in his face.”

“You do realize that he hadn’t been a deviant at that point?” The interviewer interjected. “He would have followed orders to save Emma no matter what.”

“See,” the woman laughed slightly. “You say that, you say that he was just a machine. But why would a machine following orders to negotiate a hostage situation save a fish?”

“Excuse me?” The interviewer blinked. “A fish?”

“Yeah, his name is Dewey!” Emma smiled. “Here, I’ll show you.”

The camera followed Emma out of the bedroom the interview was taking place in, out to the front hallway, where a large fish tank adorned the wall. She pointed to a colorful fish swimming by and the camera zoomed in on it. “That’s Dewey. He’s my favorite. Peter saved him.”

“I didn’t even realize,” the mother continued, “that Dewey had been on the floor. A stray gunshot had shattered the top half of the tank and he’d fallen out. One of the body cameras picked up what Peter had done after I had been taken out of the apartment.”

The camera switched to the body camera footage. One of the SWAT members had been stationed to watch the back door from the end of the front hallway and on the corner of the screen, Peter stood still as Mrs. Phillips was dragged away. Once alone, Peter looked down to the floor. He took a careful step forward and knelt down, tilting his head. Then, he gently lifted the fish and placed it back into the tank, watching as it swam away. The footage ended as Peter walked forward. 

“He saved my daughter’s favorite fish. It’s such a small thing, so insignificant in everything else he has probably done, he’s probably forgotten about it, but to Emma? That was everything. After her cuts from the glass had been tended to, she went to check on Dewey. So, he may have not been a deviant at that point, but that’s not something a mindless machine would do. That’s something a human would do.”

“You saved a fish in a hostage situation?” Tony had asked, in disbelief, the moment the channel switched to a commercial. 

Peter nodded, continuing to stare at the screen.

“How long after you were activated did you go on that mission?” Harry asked from the floor, where he was petting Jarvis.

Peter ducked his head sheepishly and they barely heard him when he responded. “I was activated an hour before that footage.”

MJ snorted. “Of course.”

The rest of them laughed incredulously at the idea of Peter being activated, driven to that building, and saving a fish. 

“You know,” Tony said, once the laughter had died out, “that explains a lot. CyberLife’s big bad deviant hunter was never what they wanted him to be. Little shit never acted completely mindless from the beginning. The first thing he did when he met me was go into an anti-android bar and bribe me with a drink.”

That set off another round of laughter. 

“First meetings or encounters with Peter, go!” MJ declared, looking interested in responses. 

“Hallway of Jericho, during the raid. Harley had saved me from some humans and told me to find MJ, so I did. I can’t even count how many times he saved me that night,’ Ned answered, pushing Peter in the shoulder when the detective slouched down. 

“I also met Peter first during the Jericho raid. He and Harley ran towards me in the corridor and Harley ran off to detonate the explosives. The two of us saved a ton of androids that night, but the moment that stuck with me was when I got shot and Harley tried to save me but was getting shot at. Peter provided coverfire and then fought off five armed guys, taking them out without any injuries to himself. Insane.”

Tony nodded like that was a normal thing people did. “I just said mine, but yeah, kid showed up in an anti-android bar, told me he had searched like five bars before that one, and that we had a case. Bought me a drink, then we left for the case. Found the murderer hiding in the attic when everyone there was convinced the offender was long gone.”

Harley let out a breath. “Captain’s quarters, just after you all had left. Peter walked in with a gun pointed at me saying something about having to take me to CyberLife or shoot me. I talked to him until he deviated and then the first thing he said was that Jericho was under attack.”

Ned winced. “Not the best first meeting.”

“No,” Harley agreed. 

“Only Harley and Peter know about this,” Harry started and they all glanced at him. “After it was decided I’d be left on the roof of Stratford Tower-”

“I fucking knew it!”

Harry shot the Lieutenant an amused glance. “I limped back to a container I could hide in and closed myself in there just as SWAT kicked the door open to try to stop the rest of us from parachuting off. A bit later, Peter slips inside my hiding place and says he isn’t going to hurt me. We chat, Peter promises that he won’t tell the humans where I was, and then he left.”

“Were you ever not a deviant?” MJ nudged Peter jokingly. 

“I definitely deviated.”

MJ hummed in response. 

“How had you found Harry?” Ned asked.

“I followed the blood trail. I can see dried Thirium.”

“God,” Tony ran a hand down his face. “I knew Peter had known something on the roof. He said he hadn’t found anything, but I was going to ask him again. But then shit went down and I totally forgot about our conversation on the roof ever happening.”

Peter subconsciously touched where his pump was, but thankfully, their movie started before any more questions could be asked. He glanced around the room, at this unlikely family they had created. The leaders of the deviant revolution and the two tasked with taking them down, somehow had found themselves together in the only human in the group’s living room to watch cheesy older movies. Tomorrow, Harley, Harry, MJ, and Ned would be hard at work at Jericho, chatting with androids and politicians. Tomorrow, Peter and Tony would get up and head down to the police station to work on cases. 

They had the future to work towards and more change to make and Peter loved every second of it. 

All the thoughts he’d have; all the cases he’d solve; all the people he’d talk to; all the dreams he’d have; all the nightmares he’d have; all the walks he’d go on; all the tears he’d shed; all the dogs he’d pet; all the sunrises and sunsets he’d see. He was so excited for them. Because he wasn’t just being anymore, he was living. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this and thank you for sticking with me <3

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! leave feedback in the comments, but please don't be too mean 
> 
> if i missed any tags or you have suggestions, let me know


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